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#1
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RETURNING HOME
I found a feather returning home today. It was snowy, tinged with black on one side. I held it against the leaden sky And kept it because I couldn’t bear leaving it for the rain To clump the follicles together and ruin the silken beauty. So I carried it across the grassy hillside and down my sandy driveway, But it fell before I opened the door. Perhaps it didn’t like the way I twirled it between my thumb and finger, Or maybe it simply didn’t want to go inside Where the sun and sky are boxed in. Either way, I left it to be rained upon, or blown by the wind. Maybe it will be crushed by the tires of a guest. I would have lost it at some point, or stepped on it accidentally. Such small things tend to be forgotten. So I left it there by my door in the sand to return home.
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#2
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I think, on first reading this, that there is a wonderful interplay in this poem between the fickleness of our interest in living and the iron inevitability of our "returning home".
I enjoy this poem in so many ways. Frubals to you GC! Post more!
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Then I came back from where I'd been. My room, it looked the same - but there was nothing left between The Nameless and the name. - Leonard Cohen. |
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#3
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![]() I like your interpretation. That's exactly what I was going for. The feather was also symbolic of unbridled imagination, and how we lose our imaginative wonder in the habits of everyday living.
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#4
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A "snowy feather tinged with black" --- isn't that great foreshadowing! We know then we're looking at something delicate and mortal.
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Then I came back from where I'd been. My room, it looked the same - but there was nothing left between The Nameless and the name. - Leonard Cohen. |
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#5
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Quote:
"I held it against the leaden sky" is also meant in much the same way. That the feather is a tool of birds to soar through the sky - above the ground that they must return to - conveys that "inevitability of returning home" that you spoke of earlier. The sky is leaden (heavy in more than one sense), and the feather is no longer a physical vehicle of flight, but a symbolic vehicle of deeper meaning to the narrator. Again, thanks for the interest in my work! Do you also write poetry Sunstone?
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I could still be wrong. |
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#6
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Quote:
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Then I came back from where I'd been. My room, it looked the same - but there was nothing left between The Nameless and the name. - Leonard Cohen. |
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