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Early November

By John I. Blair

Morning light gleams;
Cool air fills my lungs;
From the seed-heavy holly
A clever mockingbird flaps out,
Singing up the sunbeams
Like Orpheus in feathers.

Come crisp days I know
The jolly waxwing teams
Will rally here to feed,
Chivying as ever
Melancholy
In front of them.

2004 John I. Blair


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