Stitched to the blue feather a straight birch leaf
That she dropped lightly by his legs:
Wandering aimlessly, avoiding his gaze
Of fire, bold, but casually
hesitant. The gaze dropped blunt as a blow.
The head tilted sideward with inaccurate smoothness,
Winter fire slowly withdrawing
Into its black burrow which was not hidden.
The family wouldn't tell her to stop.
She took the feather from them with a scream.
It came to life in her palm till, attentively
She released hesitant fingers. The feather stilled.