Love

2017-02-27-14-12-55

Dusk, and I am at my window, watching the blackbird that has been living in my garden since January perched on the highest branch of a bare tree singing its golden yellow song. It is a story I wish to tell over and over. You had me at hello, I say to the blackbird. As it flies away, it makes an urgent sound, as if its voice is carrying its body. It is beautiful enough to carry mine.

2017-02-27-14-12-46

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