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Killdeer Call
Unleashed as if it were night
small stones, taking flight
pelting darkness, felt all along
clouding even the sweetest song
killdeer calls alarm contentment
eyes close and air runs
breathless your bruise
stabbing inside
drips of pain rearrange plans
pleading, so pleading
to surrender
white flags raise
wanting--
to be wiped away
along with the black
Copyright ©
Tim Smith
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