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There’s a blackbird
in my mango tree
and I think of Marley
and singing songs of freedom

I have followed birds
from hills
to home
and back
wondering where was Zion

but now I am content
on this verandah

the blackbirds come to my mango tree
and sing

home is always
where it’s meant to be

I am sure
that’s what blackbirds sing.

  by Carol Rumens