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The Book of The Feather

a man walks toward me with outstretched hand he says


"I'm here to help you find what your're looking for"


"What is it I'm looking for," I respond.


"Yourself." and he tells me his name


August Frost



- remembered lines from a manuscript


with a penny on the cover


and a black feather bound within


of typewritten pages blood soaking



so what have thee found,


what is it I have a found.

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