1353
towards the
equinox
parrots in the mandarin
gay lorikeets and honey
tongues
birds of the bower bluer
than sin
some dawdlers, some
warblers
some lightning swift
as if a special place
were sung
thud landers
indelicate of beak
who sway a limb till
still
swoop, dive
to be among the thrill
gust buffeted
heavier than air
strangers to what we
call toil
breezy birds
who cannot care
and drop the skins and
pips
who leave their
leavings everywhere
it’s not their nests
they soil
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