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Waxwings

Rating: 2.5

Four Tao philosophers as cedar waxwings
chat on a February berry bush
in sun, and I am one.

Such merriment and such sobriety--
the small wild fruit on the tall stalk--
was this not always my true style?

Above an elegance of snow, beneath
a silk-blue sky a brotherhood of four

birds. Can you mistake us?
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Joe Wiercinski 01 February 2018

To hear artificial intelligence used to read a favorite poem is shocking and offensive. Surely you understand that poetry requires a human's voice, not a soulless imitation of one.

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