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Jul 2018
I ate their seeds
swallowed some
spit out the rest
waited til they opened
my cage and flew
branch to branch
town to town
and into a few windows
I confused with sky.

A few nests
along the way
lived in a building
or two that burned
and escaped
singed but not ashen.

No Phoenix here
just a solo blackbird
pecking for scraps
in parking lot cracks
scars hidden
from sunlight’s gaze
under dark feathers.

Now I only fly sometimes
gliding not too high
on black wings
with rainbow sheen
I sing my songs
a bit hoarse
and off key.
Written by
Brian Rihlmann  44/M/Nevada
(44/M/Nevada)   
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       ---, ---, zumee, Anthony Mayfield, Cecil Miller and 5 others
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