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the Catholic's church bells
toll and the cocks are crowing
the hens come down from their nests
the songs of birds start
to chatter

i am not through with these yet
these lines
these musings

the morning is calling
that i must get out from these convolutions
undecided
i stay put
sit on a chair
and for a moment
close my eyes

and then i rise
and prepare my shoes
and cap
and coat
and then i say

yes!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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