the call of the red-winged black bird
its oscillating trill,
slow at first like the dip in a hammock
then quick and sharp.
All the world is a song
rising,
winging wildly like the red-winged black bird
across the sunlit field.
Oh! if we were birds!
We are, aren't we?
1 comment:
I love this. I think you should update this more often. Also, I can't seem to find the "Follow" button. :(
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