Photo by Sardar Faizan on Unsplash
I called to you
softly when I
was young; my
voice bounced off
the bricks of a
suburban slum,
sauntered down
side streets and
stirred piles of
leaves, then snagged
in the branches till
the wind tore it free
to collapse at your
window like a
weary songbird
that had been
singing for decades
and finally, you heard.
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