Bluebird’s Song

Warm and cold, blurred and soggy
Ankle deep in mud.
Swirling whimsical all around
The wind, musical air.
Viewfinder narrows, focus in
Truth inside a box
From one second to the next, revitalization
Spring is opening
spring is waiting
wanting gifts accepted or declined
peace drips off the eyelets
streaking the caked boot leather
Extend to 500mm, don’t dare to blink
as the moment in time
shrinks to mere moments
in the Bluebird’s song.

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