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The ShriLL nOTe of fLigHteD wiNgS
August 4, 2014
The shrill note of fLigHteD wings
Puts to sleep my dreams.
Barefoot, my toes burrow into the newfangled Earth,
Quickly remembering
I laugh at the nuance.
The worms are now awaking,
Making way,
Through the dirt
He tells the caterpillar to mute her sleeping,
She joins him in parade.
The quiet smell of April
hugs dear tightly to my feet!
I tread the essence inside your armor,
He who warded off unwanted gale,
The last to hold that musky smell
Is the last For springTo beheld.
LILY
© Anna R, Sudbury, ON, Canada
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