one blue
black winged thing
buzzing about.
i open
a window,
the front door and try
to shoo
him out,
but it's cold
and the wind is blowing.
white flakes
of snow are coming
down.
he flies back to the light.
circling
circling looking for a place
to land.
who can blame
him,
the warm glow
of the bulb.
his sun.
i tell him okay,
but
just one more night.
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