Pine St. Window to the Soul by Avery Vaughn

I rather like it
watching this small
world from my
window.

Watching as the seasons
pass; birth, growth, death, decay.
Watching the robins,
a still life of past time.

The small bird
that comes to sit
at the sill, still
yet twitching, itching to find food from the frost.

These song birds
twitter and tweet their sweet
little melodies, symphonies of
home.

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