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small all-weather friend,
flit from bush to tree,
lively 'till day's end.

You don't disenchant
the bird watcher's glance.
For the seed you want,
you both sing and dance.

From your head, black capped,
to your dainty toes,
your self, in joy wrapped,
come snowstorm or rose.

So, the bird feed keeps,
its inviting place,
though the summer sleeps,
winds snowflakes chase.

Chirping merrily,
day's dawn to its end,
spring, through to fall,
small, all-weather friend.

@08/15/2018 Carol Welch
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