Hanging Around
S
Smoky Hoss
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Looking up I see
an old bird resting upon a tree.
As I circle the tree round and round,
the bird makes not a move.
Perhaps too spent
to fly away anymore.
I can relate.
We've both been here for a very long time,
swaying in the breeze
like an old outlaw
at the end of his rope,
just hanging around,
out on a limb,
waving goodbye.
Bu şiiri puanla
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