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March 23, 2008
Perhaps the first poem I ever wrote, done so during a weekend program at UNCA.

A crowd of eager squirrels chanting,

Bright red cardinals soar through

the misty mid-morning air.

Together, they gather on long-dead chestnuts; on dew.

Squirrels working to get food,

Cardinals chatting nonchalantly.

The one falls, shattering the peace,

onto the soft floor of colors.

A girl passes, giggling at the

puzzling chatter and silly antics.

The animals scatter,

afraid of the laughing child.


From → Poetry

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