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It was the quilt/ Darwin MAG
I sat on a quilt,
its pattern green and pink.
It was the quilt
that my mom and I
used to take on picnics
with our dog
on that hill so green,
she so golden,
the sky a blue expanse.
It was the quilt,
where I sat with an old friend
and tried to tap into an energy,
but she would not comply.
We burnt a hole in it,
and it was mistaken for a cigarette.
It was the quilt
where earlier this spring
I had a coffee.
Then I sat on this quilt
with a stack of equations,
and made some progress,
And studied a bird briefly.
Was it a sparrow?
A finch?
My knowledge did not reach.
I thought about Darwin,
the great explorer,
wondering at the Galapagos.
And his books,
his studies on birds.
I wished I could read them,
to be of a university.
I went inside and did some exploring of my own.
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