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Dec 2022
The rusted chests of robins
are bobbing in the breeze.
Their little feet above
their heads, isn't it odd to see?
And just as I’m about to dare
this bird a bat to be,
I blink and see instead
the clinging of the leaves,
all dead.
Em Glass
Written by
Em Glass  26/NY
(26/NY)   
192
 
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