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The Cardinal 
by Henry Carlile 
 
Not to conform to any other color 
is the secret of being colorful. 
 
He shocks us when he flies 
like a red verb over the snow. 
 
He sifts through the blue evenings 
to his roost. 
 
He is turning purple. 
Soon he'll be black. 
 
In the bar's dark I think of him. 
There are no cardinals here. 
 
Only a woman in a red dress.
 "The Cardinal" from Running Lights by Henry
Carlile. Copyright �© 1981 by Henry Carlile. Reprinted with the permission of
Dragon Gate, Inc.


      

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The Audubon Society of Missouri's Wild Bird Discussion Forum
ASM Website: http://mobirds.org/