shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

John Smith

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I am gathering
like starlings
in the bamboo between flights
I am a noisy thing
My chatter scattered as my singing
And my song spans six decades
and all four of the wind's wings
I sing me flying like prayer
I pray me singing
Words of my mouth made not to ask
for anything but to be heard as I hear them
as I am gathering
like a murmuration of starlings in the bamboo
before scribbling across the sky