.
a black feather
falls from the cage
frivolously floating in the agitated air
timmy notices it
before it lands on rhoda's wavering hair
"another one!" he gasps
as he catches the feather
"can this be mine, too?"
he glances up at the cage
"what can i do with all these feathers
in this small cage?" croaks the crow
"didn't i tell you before
you can use them as you like?
alas! seems even this gentle soul doesn't understand
my tongue!" adds the crow with a sigh
crow's harsh cries fade away
in the new glorious piece horace
choose to play
timmy glances at the cage
a second time and shrugs
the cage is now swinging in the gentle
breeze rushing through the open stained-glass window
he advances towards his show-case in the corner of the hall
examining the feather intently
the show-case is full of feathers of all colors and sizes
the black ones are scattered
randomly among them
they are crow's
crow knows them
she has not counted them
but she knows they are not
a thousand and one
yet
.
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