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A swallow lying
By the dark side of the road
Like an artistic work
Interrupted, unfinished
I stopped my automobile
Paused and slid out
Feeling destiny's grip on my arm
Drawing me near to the bird of no song
With a stirring of heart prodding me
On, it came to me that
It could only be done there and then
In that desolate despairing desert
At destiny's way-stop, there...
By the side of the road
The ironic chosen instrument
A spoon from my lunch box
Clawed at the earth
With sadness at first
Then madness
And anger springing there-from
Like an entrapped tiger
Ferociously released
With a large measure of
pleasure and pain
Spewing out from within
I laid the swallow
Into the grave I had dug, there...
By the side of the road
It seemed somehow macabre
To find joy in that act of finality
And yet each turn of the earth
Was burying you, there...
By the side of the road
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