Unadorned


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Unadorned

 

The owl blinked over yellow eye moons,

then dismissed the screaming, diving jays

with one hiss each.

 

Every heart knows the unadorned truth.

It is this clean hiss,

this unruffled stand,

this flash of mirrored light.

 

A taloned grip holds us to the branch.

What is it

that lifts you to the sky?

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