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Released from salty skies or trees, Crashed into darkened plains, A treat indeed to hear the speech Of finches freed from chains They fluttered sweetly through the Months that sometimes end with 'ember'. As they fly straight through sunrays Sparks cling if they're remembered. And as the moon howls lullabies And tunes her fiddle neatly, Feathers flap and fold up high For evidence fights so sneakily. How will they climb the Redwoods While they're cherished down below? And, pray, partake in meals and feasts With seedlings in a row. Wishful wonders stem from songs Of solar sons and sorrows, They dart the pending prayers And warmed baths of tomorrow.
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Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
Ode to the Gold Finch Who Sang Twice
Released from salty skies or trees, Crashed into darkened plains, A treat indeed to hear the speech Of finches freed from chains They fluttered sweetly through the Months that sometimes end with 'ember'. As they fly straight through sunrays Sparks cling if they're remembered. And as the moon howls lullabies And tunes her fiddle neatly, Feathers flap and fold up high For evidence fights so sneakily. How will they climb the Redwoods While they're cherished down below? And, pray, partake in meals and feasts With seedlings in a row. Wishful wonders stem from songs Of solar sons and sorrows, They dart the pending prayers And warmed baths of tomorrow.
shay-ruth
Written by
Guyanese
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
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