Wednesday, December 9, 2020

Thoughts In A Pandemic


Oh can you bring for me

Spray from the salty sea?

The sight of shifting dunes

Eight to ten midnight moons?


Oh can you bring to me

Creaks from the ancient trees?

Four songs the swallows sing

Flutters from new found wings?


Where does the silence lie

In me, or in the sky?

All things I long to see

Spring from old memory…


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