I can hear a Cardinal chirp over and over. Our little non-flyer is gone. I see no sign of life or death. No adult Jays are around. Perhaps it caught a good breeze. The cat shows none of the signs of self-satisfaction it typically has after a good hunt. Somewhere in this something metaphysical waits to be drafted in iambic pentameter.
Husband to one wonderful wife, father to five fantastic children, juggler, technophile, freelancer, DIYer, adventurer, volunteer
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