RAISING QUILLS

I stretch above and below to connect the ends in a new way. They’re a part of me and I of them. I hold out my quills to extend my home. If you and I should share a touch, I would show you the spaces between. I move on my own, not with the wind, not towards the sun, nor do I need water. I contain all within myself. You decide who I am, what I am, where I am from.