An Ode to a Little White Feather
It’s gone through the wash
So it’s pure
But shaken
Bedraggled and bent
From the journey
It’s taken.
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Archive for Poetry
In the Beginning….
Just a dreary Saturday with nothing to do but tell the world I’m here. Who I am remains to be discovered both from within and without.
A poem pops to mind:
There was a time we’d both agree,
That I was you, and you were me.
What has happened to us two,
Now I am me and you are you?
But am I me?
