Who has sent you to dance for me this morning?
My coffee, cold in its foam cup, my muffin forgotten.
You flit from one shining car to the next in this tree lined lot, beside iron rails where your cohorts peck and preen.
But why dance alone? Whirling in circles on each glossy hood, then pecking at nothing I can see, hopping up the windshield in search of something, you must be, you must be.
But no, silly human...
It’s for joy, the joy, you’ve shared with me, just you and I here alone together
trying to make sense of what we see.
By: Paula Marston
4/21/19
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