So lately we have come along
hoping to understand this
multitude of whistling tongues
to decode in cackles
the frankness of grackles
the subtly mock-hymnal
sobbings of doves
Sure it's song, but to what use?
Love's inflection? Bright abuse?
Cordial in the gloam one lights
quips his quips, and quits: it's night
Year:
2009
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