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Tuesday, February 25, 2014


when  my ears were small
words were few
little hands, little feet
barely used

a song bird sang,
to my heart beat
its rhythm,
its melody

years accrued
words came
my finger tips
became agile on
guitar strings

a song bird freed
from my lips
of when my ears
were small 
with little hands
and little feet

a melody and rhythm
to the beat
of your heart now
touches the strings
with my finger tips

it's your song, mamasita