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#poetry

a kiss for the robins

on our walk, with snow squeaking underfoot,
we pass a yard adorned with a hopping robin.

“do you know what you do when you see a robin?
dad told me,” my sister tells me.

you kiss your thumb,
then tap your hands together.

I practice the motion of my grandmother:
I kiss my thumb, then bump my fists.

a kiss for a robin.

M.B.B.
4/14/2020

By Meghan B.

Hello! Thanks for checking out my blog! Despite being 29, I haven't lost my sense of child-like wonder for the world around me. I've been making up stories my whole life: My imaginative play with toys as a child has grown up with me, maturing into my imaginative wordplay with fantasy and sci-fi prose as well as free-verse poetry. I thrive on creating something with my hands and with my mind, using either my pen or my keyboard. When I'm not reading, writing, or knitting (or realistically, working), I'm watching Netflix, gaming, or hanging out with the people I love most: my friends, my family, or my boyfriend.

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