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Bonus Poem: Morning Glories

I wanted to feed them all -
The sparrows, the doves, the jays, and
the one with the little red and gray head
That didn't need to be named, but I would
Have loved to hear him tell me it was
Fred.

Still, without seed, I listened to them welcome
the morning sun, the long grass in the wind, and
Heard the one with a lower tone whisper
above my head, seeing more than I, and telling.
And the owl, off from the nightshift, hooted softly
Somewhere in some Cottonwood hotel.

And the energetic choir, full of morning song
and chatter, and hope,
Flitted behind me and gathered in the church
Of the underbrush. "Hallelujah," they sang,
and for the millionth time, I felt the angels
Weren't in the sky, they were perched on the reeds.

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