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Writer's pictureAlison Blevins

November

As I sat on the edge of earth’s abyss,

wondering if I’d be missed,

pondering clichés, ‘how and why’

staring at unending sky,

A bird appeared upon the wing –

a fleeting glimpse my heart did sing,

For that small bird did to speak to me,

of all things wild and all things free

and said the time is now.

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