What brings upon the dawn
so swiftly,
a Swallow's call.
Drifting cross the field to bloom,
to yield;
pulling another's
voice
so quickly.
Two soft songs
melding,
now one.
Two hearts beating,
neath the tall grass,
warmed by the sun.
(Copyright Steven S. Walsky,2009, all rights reserved.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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