Assisted Writing

black feather surrounded by dried leaves

I don’t always know a falcon

from a hawk

but as feathers fall

I tote them home in my shirt pocket

poke brown black cream striped


of a softness beyond silk

of patterns beyond Audubon

tuck them all into slight curve of

sun-dried drifted stick so that

small sculpture of silky sky scrapers seems

to be a pen set on my desk.

Once, Dad brought home a white feather quill

pen from a museum shop.

Just to show you how

they scribbled Way Back When.

At college I made a boyfriend mistake

and gave it away.

Is it possible that soaring sky scrapers

above this St. Marks Marsh

receive messages to

drop fresh pens my way?

Poem by JG Annino

JG Annino, an MFA graduate of Hollins University, helps birds & bees, plants & trees, fauna & fish. She organically planted lemon & avocado pollinator saplings, which now provide fruit in her tiny suburban garden. JG won the Florida Book Awards for a lyrical children’s nature title, SHE SANG PROMISE.