they come to us every day,
flitting and flapping, singing and winging
in constant endless streams of commotion
their numbers growing each morning
vexingly exponentially like the warning of
the algebraic certainty of the federal debt
they never rest
their exclamation-point tails signaling
squirrels, crows, hovering lovers
and a single rose blooming on a distant asteroid.
So here we stay
our what-ifs piling around our ears
with the insistent incessant persistent coming of the wrens of regret
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Thanks for writing!
Jacqueline