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Bird Bath

only this
matters: this ecstatic

this standing on stick-
thin legs where the singing
creek pools at the lip
of the waterfall

only this
chest diving to meet
its reflection

this beak piercing
again and again that quivering
surface, these wings half-
unfolding, a ruffle

of joy guiding rivers
of light a tumble
of droplets dressed
in rainbows along your hidden

shattering all
decorum beneath
blue branches in quiet

assent. . .

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