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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/