Ode to Bird
i see a yellow tuft on the distant concrete square
i search for a glimmer of light
i walk towards it, leaning, staring
wanting a look back.
the eyes are open, but the beak is closed.
could it be a song unsung?
how i long to hear the melody.
unceremoniously buried on the surface
i take out the only thing i know how to use,
THE FOREVER EYE.
death is beautiful.
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