It's Still Life

A Journal of Thoughts from Last Week

The I In It

Atrocity

I am sitting in the shade, 
light-headed as helium, 
the sun is stove-hot,   

it thinks it's a sphinxian bastion

and a magpie is shouting 
vulgarities at me - 
in a praxis of complaint 

all because

I've not refilled the birdbath.

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