Poems of Lighthouse Bob
Black #533
Black Sparrows, finches, threshes, quail, camouflaged in winter's swell of decaying branches, twigs, and leaves ripped from windblown, ragged trees, rummage through compositions of ground beneath one, in particular, cottonwood, abreast the rest more low and much more the dangerous as, on its lofty perch, a crow peers nonchalantly, black into the mother lode of spring. |
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Black #533
Black #533