to write it down,
but I should,
and so,
to memorialize this,
average, ordinary, day-
a small haiku,
man singing softly,
two duets in five/ four time,
rain falling constant
hmm. right?
but if you were to count the olives on my fingers,
idly tapping my empty plate, at last, late night,
you too, would wonder, why the herd,
was quiet. Maybe this is how it is in the Oswego Savannah?
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