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Life
in the Sanctuary
a tiny wooded,
urban strip
Carolina Wren
By Marci
If it's not
the horseless carriage, it's the soaring dive and piercing talons
that forever cause my pain.
Today, I placed
you under the large oak on the hill. I know that you loved that
spot. I will miss the trill of your beautiful song. There's no other
quite like it for such a tiny bird. I thank God that I could hear.
We will miss
your flight to the patio,or landing on a flower pot to grab a tiny
morsel. That flitting tail and the short and fluffy body, with its
rust-colored down That white stripe above your eye was the mark
of feathered royalty. Perhaps your mate will remain to trill that
unforgettable song in the wee hours... and maybe in the afternoon.
I have not heard it today.
The story
says "four years in the city, but at least ten in the woods." If
only you had remained there...in the thick of foliage and lush vegetation.
But, then we would not have met and shared the beauty of it all,
and, I would have had one less blessing.
Marci
Writings by Marci:
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