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large orange bird swivels
its head, casting inquisitive
glances onto my desktop
mulch for word morsels,
wriggling phrases, twigs
to potential nest epics,
trails a feathery beam
over leaf and sheaf,
treasure for scavenging
she wants me to cull, fling
on a midden somewhere
that is not our home, not
my own compost for seeds
the bird hovers over
but cannot turn to song