Have you seen the blackbirds
soaring through the sky,
little "Ms" scribbled on
chalkboard by a child's hand.
They would search the entire
alphabet to find the perfect
letter. Their wings clean dust
from the clouds where love sleeps
when the earth removes her
from tangled vines and misery.
The birds can only watch and wait,
as she floats upon her pillow
of dreams. Meanwhile, lovers pace.
Hands shoved in deep pockets
where words disappear like coins.
Wondering where love went
and if she will ever return again.
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