Swan Feather

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Contributor: Marie Kilroy

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This foggy Tuesday morning,
I dawdled around the room,
dissatisfied and grumpy,
for no particular reason,
other than it was a Tuesday,
and there was much work to do.

I lingered by the window,
with my tea,
and actively avoided,
getting dressed and going out into the world.

I rolled the marbles of discontent,
back and forth,
in my mind.

Staring at the leafy, motionless trees below,
I felt my heart surge
as I saw a white swan feather,
fat and fluffy,
a bit of down,
floating down,
just for me,
past my white window frame.

Maybe I wanted to see a sign.
Or maybe the sign wanted to see me.

Either way, I don’t know why
some Central Park swan
swung southward
and over my brownstone

But I felt some magic
and considered a change of mood.

So I came down from the sky
and glided through the street,
a concrete lake,
mine to explore.

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Marie Kilroy has been published in publications like The Driftwood Review and Lines + Stars. She graduated from the University of Mary Washington with a B.A. in English. She lives in New York City.


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