Poem: "Eiderdown"
This poem was written outside the fishbowl sessions, during the half-price poetry sale in November 2012. It's a response to a comment by catsittingstill about how the Fledging relates to children. It has been sponsored by catsittingstill. This poem belongs to the Fledgling Grace series, which you can explore further via the Serial Poetry page.
For this poem, I researched bird down, the Common Eider, the snowy owl and its symbolism. I also explored the Inuit people of Sanikiluaq and their close relationship with eider ducks as mentioned in People of a Feather.
Eiderdown
The Inuit of Sanikiluaq
had long held a close relationship with the sea ducks
and rejoiced in the smart black-and-white wings of the males
or the softer brown-streaked buff of the females
when the Fledging came to the northern coast.
They were the first to notice
that while older children might suddenly gain wings,
infants did not, until they grew older.
They noticed that babies born after the Fledging,
however, came with wet little wings
that dried into natal down
just like the fuzzy brown ducklings.
The flight feathers came in later,
around teething time.
They noticed, also, that young people
bore the wings of their heritage --
which in Sanikiluaq mostly meant the Common Eider --
but might, in time, shed those early feathers
and moult into new plumage
reflective of some adult affinity.
The first was a teenager
who went to bed one night and woke
to find that he had shed his eider wings
for the black-flecked white of a snowy owl --
a shaman's bird, symbol of guidance and aid.
So the old shaman
took the boy under his wing
and began teaching him
the ways of the spirits.
They told these things to their neighbors
because the Fledging was unsettling for everyone
and people tried to share what news they had;
but it took a long time for confirmation to come
as they observed the wider population.
The Inuit just shrugged and went on noticing things.
One could not afford to be unobservant in the Arctic.
That summer, a visitor came north,
a girl barely into her womanhood
with the bright new wings of a bald eagle.
She had copper skin and sea-green eyes
and hair the white-blond of old snow,
gleaming like her white tail.
Her grandmother glared at the boys of the village
except for the owl-winged boy
who treated the girl as a sister
and nodded serenely at her story
of a vision sending her north with the wind
to trade wisdom between their tribes.
The mothers of the village still went
to the sea duck colony after the ducklings had grown,
and called the hens their sisters, and asked
for the eiderdown to make warm quilts
for their little ducklings to come,
and life went on.