Feathers

I hold you as a frame,

as branches frame a far off scene,

as a path frames the woods,

showing the exquisite composition

of the view

and turkeys, browsing every day

along that path, frame the afternoon

I see feathers. They fall from the sky

or are found, in delicate perfection,

along a road, beside the lake.

I take them as signs.

I think of you every day.

©Wendy Mulhern

August 31, 2018