Been There All Along
a grim discovery on my front bumper,
two shredded butterflies
and the feathery remains
of a bird, possibly a sparrow.
back inside my apartment
I can't shake the vision from my head
as I try and remember
when I last washed my car.
on my shelf, a bird watchers book
never before opened
informs me I was wrong..
a black-collared swift, not a sparrow.
this new knowledge does little
to ease my conscience,
but reminds me that tomorrow
is laundry day.
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Comments about this poem (Been There All Along by Mick Tomlinson )
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