Ode to Birdhouses

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Birdhouses, eggshell homes,

tiny wooden nests painted

with the bright pink taste

of the cardinal's call, earlier

than even the sun, who

struggles to open her eyelids

as the sky blushes with birdsong.

Little houses, rustic barricades

with room for peeping inside,

room for glimpsing the opening

of butterfly eyes.

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