Saturday, March 16, 2019

INDECIPHERABLE CAUSE

What in this world
have I ever truly loved?
A sunrise
Sunday morning
pancake
batter smell
the plagal
cadence of folk
mass songs
or the lone
crow's call? So
I've heard—the blackbird 
is involved 
in what I know,
but I don't
have the smallest
snowball's
chance in
hell of knowing—what she believes
at all.

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