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A Bird Perches---
A Sonnet to My Immigrant Students

A bird perches, head cocked, feathers still,
Does watch, observes, but doesn’t understand
my song, my sorrow, the words of this land,
Do they see that I notice their strong will
to succeed, to learn, to try to fit in?
Do they know I hope for dreams to be filled?
Not gangs, or sex, not drugs, nor getting killed
But nesting in safe; playing school to win—
My hope is this: Sing not to the full moon—
It ever changes, slivers little light;
Serenade instead to the sun. Take flight
From borders. Remain. Learn a loyal tune:
Siempre amarse a sí mismo;
and sing your song wherever you may go.

"Scott's Oriole: Western Songbird"