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Nov 2019
My eyes capture a glimpse
of a Robin Red Breast
who lay at my feet
his breath labored
as is mine
I sink to my knees
my spirit crushed
as is his
we mourn as a pair

His wind ceases
eyes lock
I bury him
under a Sourwood Tree
with raw hands
and blanket him
with rich soil
Fall leaves flow
to bedeck his grave
Betty H
Written by
Betty H  F
(F)   
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