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chop

my click-clack, white-black friend swirls in thought,
nudging wrist with paw, with nose, with belly and
ears tap-wagging to blink-red of eye..
hah! how you mock these words
as though never matching of you they could be;
waddle your way ‘cross top of desk
and find my thoughts still,
my motor-driven, parrot friend!

gold, sun-shone veil
crease of lips grown loud in smile

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