the size of a large thumb
one black one white
take one for a talisman
she said why is it
so hard to choose
I can name three triggers
one is a dove
who comes every morning
to a certain empty part
of the yard to peck and mourn
one is a loud grackle
with a hooked yellow beck
like a back-hoe tossing dirt
and one is a shiny black crow
dripping with dire warnings
who finding nothing to satisfy
or even interest him
flies off flicking his wing-tips
as if the air itself was sin
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