My bird is up and singing at 4am.
Long before the sun, my bird has arisen…
His song heard from the high trees across the way.
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My neighbors used to be far away in the woods.
I liked it that way. So did they.
Like Robert Frost wrote in "Mending Wall",
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Full Buck Moon is here;
Native American named…
New antlers appear.
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A man can watch a thousand sunsets;
Live under a thousand full moons;
A man can hold a thousand secrets;
Love on a thousand days of Mays and Junes.
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Another day breaks;
Another cup of coffee
Stares back at me
From a “Table for one, please”.
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The firefly blinks, and blinks again,
Against dark shadows of night
On a perpetual search
On an invisible flight,
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I situate locks of Deb’s hair in her favorite places.
Hunting Island State Park Beach,
Beaufort, South Carolina, Noon, March 10,2015
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The night was restless, ,
4 am and butterfly thoughts are flitting about,
With no two resolving together; not one complete.
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I walk these days…
Sometimes in the local forest
On familiar trails
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