Eleven Years
My father once brought me an oriole's nest
That wind had
Torn from its tether.
It still hangs in our hall--
A deflated balloon, bereft
Of all but dust and cobwebs, just as
We are bereft of him.
AN OUTRAGEOUS WASTE OF TIME AND TYPE
My father once brought me an oriole's nest
That wind had
Torn from its tether.
It still hangs in our hall--
A deflated balloon, bereft
Of all but dust and cobwebs, just as
We are bereft of him.
Spun by Abigail on Tuesday, November 10, 2026
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