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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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