(untitled)
Walking through the paradox
it appears birds
are fine, fine metaphor
for women and men
set upon a sexy planet;
the plumes and color
and proclivities
amongst the trees and
shores along the seas
bespeak the creation,
within which
things are rarely
seen for what they are
in the moment—
past defined,
fixed the instant
a creature alights
into and from.
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