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Jan 2018
A chirrup beneath my
window syll
"Chirrupchirrup."
            
A Pipit goes. Café au lait
plumage quavering in dew
and wind.
        
Splayed on syll sublime
his songs he
sings.
            
My ears, freshwoken, hear
tender crescendo and I
arise

and start the
day.
Written by
Nick  30/M/North Bay, Canada
(30/M/North Bay, Canada)   
283
 
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