The Single Bird on the Avenue

A single bird flies down Manhattan Avenue

2 wings flapping strong in the wind

Gentle acceleration

Calling out lightly at 6 AM

Such stillness can exist in the city

High hitting trains come to a stop

To see this small bird perched atop

The brownstones of Brooklyn

Resting its wings

To begin it’s ritual sing

Lighten the roads with laughter

The clanking of iron clad walls


Open for business now

Seemingly attractive

Deliveries on time and delayed

Now I rush out the door

To see the bird fly away

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