Song
For this morning I am resolved
to live more like a bird,
with my chest puffed out
as blazon of my great good fortune
or protection from the cold.
I will turn an eye to the open sky,
entrust my obvious blind spots
to the protection of instinct,
refuse to admit the existence
of anything but the present.
I will take flight only
in the face of the direst threat,
fling my song upon
the dull embers of dawn
to burn with just one story,
that reports of my demise
have been greatly exaggerated.
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