Gently I place today’s hawk feather
amidst the others bundled
in my grandmother’s
Its bold brown and white stripes
contrast with the barn owl’s
rust smudges on cream.
A trio of dusty black buzzard spikes
form a background, graceful
arches from an unfortunate
rooster bracket the group
and tucked into the foreground
the glossy feathers of smaller birds,
scrub jay, crow, kestrel and dove.
I can’t bear to throw away
these gifts dropped on lawn,
driveway, road from birds
busy about their lives,
About the Author: Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Patricia Wellingham-Jones is a widely published former psychology researcher and writer/editor. She has a special interest in healing writing, with poems recently in The Widow’s Handbook (Kent State University Press). Chapbooks include Don’t Turn Away: poems about breast cancer, End-Cycle: poems about caregiving, Apple Blossoms at Eye Level, Voices on the Land and Hormone Stew.