
What do you mean you didn’t see the hummingbird rush past your face so close your bangs moved?
Or the finch stand at the dry center of a cornflower pulling its drawers for seeds, or the young seagulls kettling,
Each its own circle, catching bugs like its Bug Day. I know difficulty exposes lack of wisdom, but also
Do you want to see the long, fierce mind, generous and eager to give it? The one who made a flute, and put feathers around it, and made it sing?
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I. W. Lumeuth lives in Slovakia.
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