i notice birds,
and..
their
absence –
on spring damp
branch
for
my lone
convenience?
though i do thank
them..
in most humble,
manner-
some appear
bashful..
and i’d hate to
over flatter.
my dime a dozen
bird song,
you gong,
and
move on-
i trill
sonnet,
you vomit,
i rescue
hair-
whisperin’
haiku..
you gag,
do i
inspire..
desire me
too?
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