LEFT FEATHERED — a small crumb, an offering, a leftover pastry in a parchment bag, a bit of down that came out of the pillow when you sat on it and stuck to your jeans when you stood up, a strange look to the light that keeps the softness of dusk into the mid-morning, a piece of newsprint with the outline of the envelope on top sunfaded into shape, a dustpan, a makeshift broom, a paperboard box tucked into the corner until it finds a use again