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by Michael Lee Johnson Tired of hunger tired of emptiness late February winter snow— crow claws locked in on my condo balcony steel railings. Their desperate eyes focus in on my green eye sockets— their search begins, I go to bed, no ruffled feathers showing— their imaginary dreams of green— black wings fly flapping— the hunt, scavengers, over barren fields— shadows in the way now late August summer sun bright yellow turning orange— hard corn. Copyright 2024. All rights reserved.
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