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For the Love of Angels

The mild stickiness of humidity
a remnant of the evening storm.

The shiny object on the floor
curiously draws attention.

Its twisting metal rim
reflects the dawning sun.

The tiny cameo pill box
unseen for years.

A soft white feather
lies nestled in its womb.

The downy plume
stirs feelings of possibility.

This miracle of space
births love from nothing.

Copyright© Jacqui Burnett 2016

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