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POEM: Crook

Crook

Leaning in the front yard,
single foot jammed into soil,
arms unencumbered,
my purpose unsure.

Squirrels search at my base
but it’s too late,
they’ve carried off the bounty
they themselves freed.

Across the street a cousin,
metal-skirted,
holds aloft
the birds’ delight.

I long for my turn.

/ / /

6 April 2024
Charlottesville VA
NaPoWriMo Day 6

Published in My poems NaPoWriMo2024 Poetry

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