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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1998904
Part of 'Poems Through The Cabin Window'
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On the slim twig the little bird sings.
    The tiny bird sings
    Twitter pitter
    Twitter pitter

Through the long grass the little vole patters.
    The tiny vole creeps
      Pitter patter
      Pitter patter

Between the maze of stumps the porcupine lumbers.
      Then scurries at the bark of a dog.
      A patterned annoyed scurry
      To escape the dog

Patterns.  Through the grass and in the sky.
        Through the trees and rotting stumps.
        Between you and I.

Who can read the patterns?
        The patterns that weave together and force apart.
        The patterns that will us to be,
        And force us to let go?

I really don't know.
        No.
      I really don't.
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