On the way to my mailbox
I saw this feather
sprouting between the grass blades in my lawn.
Half in shadow, half in light
A reluctant imposter
doing a poor job of blending in.
I wondered briefly about the animal who left it there
to live out its days
disenfranchised and alone.
A relic of a kingdom still present
like some kind of cruel joke.
So I sat down beside it
and listened to all the other birds chatter wildly overhead.
I stared long into the street before us
and when the clamor grew quiet enough
I looked down upon the feather
as if a headstone and said:
You were here
and so was I.
Sobriety Poet 