bird’s path you follow
call it treading
flying
from one end to another
notes of budding branches
in an early morning sky
drift along the breeze
unseen traces unfold
song-clusters in echo
contained in silence
its one body
from one end to another
it’s the no end
mirrors coming and going
non-abiding
chiming wind-bell of stones
blends
with sighs of slender grass
slowly waking in the prairie
throbbed with morning light
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