Choir — A Poem

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“Harbinger” — C.Birde, 3/20

 

 

From

the crown of trees

they call,

their voices

fall

like rain,

dark gems agleam,

aglitter;

rough-cut shards

against

up-tilted ear.

Rasp-

throated, darkling

harbingers

joined

in coarse prelude

to spring.

 

 

— C.Birde, 3/20

 

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