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Literature Text
What is that bird?
I remember hearing it's call
in the woods along the shore
of Michigan, when we visited
my mother's aunt and uncle.
It seems so out of place
here in a small Ohio city.
(Despite Dayton's patchwork suburban neighborhoods
sprawled between the buisiness districts
of downtown and scattered shopping centers.)
But then, for moment when I heard
that call, I was transported by memory
to the woods along the shore
of Michigan, where we visited
my mother's aunt and uncle.
I remember hearing it's call
in the woods along the shore
of Michigan, when we visited
my mother's aunt and uncle.
It seems so out of place
here in a small Ohio city.
(Despite Dayton's patchwork suburban neighborhoods
sprawled between the buisiness districts
of downtown and scattered shopping centers.)
But then, for moment when I heard
that call, I was transported by memory
to the woods along the shore
of Michigan, where we visited
my mother's aunt and uncle.
The drop of rain preceding the storm...
I wrote this a few days before I concieved of my epic, but forgot to put it up.
This is the first thing I've written to completion in over a year, wish me luck that it won't be the last.
I wrote this a few days before I concieved of my epic, but forgot to put it up.
This is the first thing I've written to completion in over a year, wish me luck that it won't be the last.
© 2007 - 2024 Yensil
Comments2
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I love the repitition. This poem seems so quiet, even though it's centered around sounds. Like, reading it is intruding on something very soft and personal.