A Magpie Calls Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

A Magpie Calls

A magpie calls into my shuttered room.
He feels the cold January bloom.
But I care not that he is fed.
As long as my rhyme breaks the bread.
Who cares if our feathered friend lies dead?
Or whether these solemn words
Ever make it written to be read?

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