Wild

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 Wild


Abandon, havoc, limitlessness made mortal.

This, I call wild? Today the towhee birds say "No."


I study them. Wild, they jitter through tall

yellow-green grasses. They rustle under


Oak's crunchy brown coat carefully laid out across

the forest bed. The towhee bird bodies are made electric


by the business of survival. Today I choose

to be wild like that. I release all 


romantic notions of a more domestic beast. 

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