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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