He returned today,
just outside
my patio.
Red crown bright
against the verdure
of moss blooming
on the mist moist
bark of an aging
Cottonwood.
Precariously perched,
elliptically traversing
Its circumfrence,
as it tattoos
avian cuneform
that wreathes
the trees
amid autumn’s
falling leaves.

M. Zane McClellan

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