Wednesday, April 25, 2012


I did not know enough about you yet

other than how you appeared that day

your kind, a bird, not a crow or a robin or a gull

but a thing with wings standing deep in a tree

staring back at me, not a starling or a chickadee

but a bird, one of all the birds in the world that day

the song that I gave you to sing was my way

of saying to myself that what I was seeing was real

that you were here for a reason, to teach me something

that I was real and you were a bird

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