An American robin.

Randy robin redbreast



into the plate glass door

as if looking for a way in.

I worry about today’s youth:

the instinct

above all else

this drive 

to procreate


for the life of me

circling back around

cannot recall the pros

only to be found

in prose.

Are you and I

birds of a feather

having already built this nest


as concussed

beating my brains


for a way out.

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