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MOODY  by Carole MacRury 
copyright © 2001

Ludlow Press Poetry

Moody



The same eight crows
along the wire;
a full scale
of tail feathers
fanning in, fanning out,
like syncopated black notes.

Yesterday,
they fanned a flamenco
and I danced to castanets.
Today, in the same shoes,
I just see birds
bobbing the blues.











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