Thursday, March 3, 2022

some love song pleads

Some love song pleads

while the silhouettes of three

palm trees has me wondering 

about the barn owls I only ever

hear as I fumble through the dark 

yard and I listen as the last crows 

call their alarms, so long 

these fields of risk and glory, 

goodbye another day wrested from

the clutches of danger and 

consequence. There’s something left

that I’d say if there was someone 

here to hear me. Instead I stare

at silhouettes as some love song 

begs, the light leaving fast.

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