Angel's Wing Poem by Tracy WatsonBrown

A white feather lies on the ground.
It quivers gently in the breeze
but cannot fly; it can't recall
how once it soared mile after mile.

It's forgotten the most important thing-
that it is part of an angel's wing-

how once it wrote on history's page-
or symbolized the coward's choice.
What are we that you are mindful
of us? As low as the feather on the ground?

If only we had our own wings
You would see such marvellous flying.