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            (On Sharmagne Leland- St.John)
by Kristin Roedell

You punctuate your words
with a feather,
perhaps because you have
travelled so far that
there is only one direction
you could have come:
as the crow flies.
You are not afraid to speak
truth so soaring
the eye must be sharp to see it.

Your aerial beauty
seems to have wings;
I have witnessed a picture of you
with glossy braids
and a blouse as fragile as
a web in rain
hanging tears from strand to strand
falling as quiet as flight..

You will not stop to be fragile.
or feather a nest with
beauty, loss, fame,
or talent;
someone else would have
made a perch
of even one of these.

Instead, you are the point
of an angled flock.
Your poems contain the secret
of flight;
I read them beneath eagled skies.


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