Bluejays sing their songs
and they echo off my spoon
as I lick snow from my pool,
filling it with seeds

The breeze belts out a tune
trilling through the branches
as I lay on the grass,
plucking death from the blades,
mowing it

I'm the cloud above,
raining life

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A/N: This is one of my poems from Allpoetry, where I write as Viking.