The Feather
A Poppy's Prompt Poem
I found a crow feather on the ground today,
black as the ace of spades, a single solitary
agent of flight.
*
I thought of you, that time you told me finding
a feather means a missing loved one is watching
over us.
*
I laughed inwardly at the time, but when Dad died,
I found a feather on the ground and thought of him.
I keep it still, just in case, you know, you were right.
*
I’ll keep this black plume, too, a reminder of
how easily we fracture, how quickly our Light
extinguishes.
*
We are all dying candles, enduring the next
wayward breeze, forgetting that it gives us
our own chances to fly.
About the Creator
David Muñoz
I'm a recovering artist in Austin, Texas. Stoic student, mystic, writer, poet, guitarist, father, brother, son, friend. I am an eternal soul living a human experience. Part of that experience is working through my stuff by making art.
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