Monday, April 28, 2014

The Advocate


Huge pillars of cactus

loom on the hillside --  but I can't tell

which one shelters

a bird whimpering in song.


I imagine her body

mottled in gray like old lace

and her small head crowned

with a black crest. Sweet


mantilla bird

crying into the desert

for anyone

who wants a kindred voice,

the comfort of an echo.



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