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A Bird Dead

A bird dead on the bathroom floor
and I’m naked.
It’s damp.

It’s been the longest day
and the shortest night.
It was foggy early,
but at three a.m. the stars are out.

I want to talk about juju,
about weddings and spells,
and divorces and spells.

Fifty years is a long time to hold a grudge.
He’s been dead twenty.
Maybe it’s time,
maybe it’s time you forgave him.