Quil Poem by Stacey Knippenberg Ricci

Quil



He and his strange ancient history
Merely mortal immortality
Feather quill plucked
From the wing
Coal black ink
Drained from a
Hardened heart
On to Parchment pale yellow
Matching the stains
Of nicotine from the
Weedy roll burning
Between his shaking fingers
Anticipation trembles
On the next word to fly
From the former feather
Ink oozes out of the wound
The divine connection
To the heavens
Paper ink pen
Preserving all on earth
That this man may keep
A portion on the ground
Before taking flight himself
Shameful he did not consider
The creator of the bird
For man can only hold
A lifeless quill

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