They all mow lawns
And put out food
For those cute little songbirds.
But the darker-skinned
Ones know.
They’ve watched.
They’ve always seen
Who we are.
They catch our subtle wit
And know our confidence.
Soaring through firs
That dwarf human structures,
We play tag
Or find love.
Once
I stole the sun.
Carol McMillan
April 14, 2013
