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A Wood Thrush Sings
by Jeannie E. Roberts


High in the treetop,
    under summer's
        emerald umbrella,
            a wood thrush sings.

His languor of note,
    flutelike and spare,
        drops gently, while dusk
            washes the woodlands,

moving afternoon's
    last blush of light
        toward horizon's
            crimson slumber.

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