It is 2 AM.
There is a mockingbird on my windowsill,
singing his tiny heart out.
Some sounds one can tune out,
but not the ever evolving song
which changes every 5 seconds.
Now he imitates the car alarm.
Why isn't To Kill A Mockingbird a how-to manual?
There must be a market for mail order brides,
for mockingbird seeking love.
Across the street, a
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