by Joan McNerney
Sparrows recite
litanies in wood. Trees
greener every rainfall
their leaves growing longer.
April evening covering
swiftly swiftly scented
crepe myrtle.
Suspended this moment
between light and dark.
Clouds rush over horizon.
Sun dropping from sky.
Movement of white flowers
blowing over hillsides.
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Great visuals and the sound of the words when read out loud.
ReplyDeleteDitto Gordon's comments. This poem is beautiful and brilliant.
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