Sosi
I say it’s for my body’s needs
and walk back to the place
where he threw it.
I pretend
and I squat.
The young moon rose
to help me find it,
catching the white
of the shaft
in its light.
The tapered, curved white line
divides the feather into two parts,
connected but unequal,
the spray of white down at its base
so soft in my palm.
Rich earth-brown feather fibers
like straight strong lines of fringe
from each side of the shaft,
widening, then tapering
to the tip,
where the feather has a pattern,
spots, almost stripes, of lighter color,
like petals or tiny leaves
dyed into its yarn.
I found this quill with Mama.
Papa held it in his hand
while we danced.
He will hold it again
for me to dance
with Vahan.