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Robins

There is a collective revving of chutzpah and pluck. The flock takes flight. One robin jumps late, takes off alone behind the bunch. It struggles to catch up, then segues in mid-air, as if to say: ...k it. The bird lands alone on a bare branch. It doesn’t care; robins are not starlings.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Shattered Sighs