the feather

The falling feather brushed my cheek in what I can only describe as an attempt to speak…..Picking the feather up from the ground I held it up and stared it down. It spoke of calm in a quiet tone suggesting i take this feather home.Upon this walk the feather stirred again declaring its service as a pen. Although never a pen in its native tongue the will of this quill could not be undone.

the feather

Jason Embery

Shoalhaven Heads, Australia

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feather quill

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  • batsheep
  • Heabar
  • Jason Embery
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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