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The Eagle’s Headdress

dd
Dustin Cormier
July 2, 2013
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From that day that J’uanchok
gave me

his Eagle’s Headdress to wear 
on the fullest moons,

I haven’t missed a date.

Faithfully, under his sentinel
glare,

I don this white feathered mask
like a new skull

and marry its spirit—

spreading my wings, learning its
precision,

soaring hawk-like through moonlit 
forests

and over sandy beaches;

bumbling bitterly by, my fellow peers
mumble their disapproval:

“What nonsense!” they snicker. 
“Such absurdity!”

But J’uanchok, arms folded, stands
watching from a distance.

Only J’uanchok knows that
it is no game;

only he knows that I’m really
learning to fly

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Filed Under: July 2013, Shorthand Tagged With: Dustin Cormier, poetry, Shorthand

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