Not exactly feathered, but the Mohawk fringe is close enough. For without hope, what are we? Nihilists -- but that’s another post.
(I’ve always been partial to redheads.)
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."