Listen to poem:
It's For the Birds
The fragrance of an open bottle, ~~numbs,
It aires a room resigned to fulfillment,
Impatience dealt some wayward errant doves,
Carries them to moor like patient children,
Obeisance for 'tis nature that they delves,
Buries their heads fore flights of fluttering,
A floor draped in white feathers, winds bundles,
Door burst, shoos, closed windows, seals a bottle.
Date: 05/31/2019
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