red wing blackbird
chickadee, dachshund
squinting, the blossoms
and leaves on my level
for once I try to go
to the movie, end up
just walking around
I hate that I'm about
to say the sadness
comes too not
sadness over death
or loss or something
broken again but
the one that has always
been here, sitting
in me like an apple
or hand but also
the same as the sky
or specific hand
the one I think about
no, is close to me
nearly all the time
is no closer to my
throat than yesterday
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