A White Crane Poem by Comfort Zone
A White Crane
A blood-soaked white crane,
Soars up -
To the gold dust sprinkled firmament,
Sweeping across the blue lagoon -
Fringed with tall green grasses
Camouflaging a limed trap,
Squeaking,
For a last look at its nest.
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4/26/2024 5:06:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
