pictures
of songs fell in my lap
from
an old manila folder,
drifting
fall leaves
fighting
gravity,
scattered
in pant folds,
across
the pine floor.
in
the corner of my eye
a
small bird escapes summer
stares
curiously from the maple rail
of
my second-story bunk,
yellow
wings stretching time,
blurring
forgotten wrongs.
semaphore
tail to balance present
on
present against the final future.
evermore
or nevermore?
an
unlikely question from a songbird.
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