GOLDFINCH When I was small and sick my father brought in a goldfinch to fly around the room. He was bringing in the sun. It panicked In wanting Out bead its forehead upon the heavenly window. The Tooks and the Gaves are spilling blood The Gives and the Takes are full of love. My goldfinch bones like wires growing yellow paper flowers threaded light like a bead in his eye his beak hissing for the fresh air -Lift the roof O my child and trust the sky. ~o)
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