Tom’s Eagle Feather
Born to soar
I lost my anchor
Unhinged pulled free and fell
Fluttering to obscurity
meaninglessness.
Robbed of life.
Picked up, taken without liberty
Denied all pursuit of happiness
carried off and tooled
to a fine point to be drowned
In a sea of indigo
Scratched roughly on raw parchment
Shaping a spidery trail of words
To soar in ways, to heights, beyond imagining––
We hold these truths . . .