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General   (General discussion, talk about anything.)

Started by: jarvo (30250) 

MORNING SONG/HINTERLAND


Morning,
and you are leaving
on the midday flight.

I am walking on autumn leaves,
and going by
the babbling brook.

I look up at the December blue sky,
and wonder why
you must be going.

A pheasant cackles in the bush...
Hush!
there are other birds singing
their morning songs;

other lovers saying
their last goodbyes;

and other journeys
to be made.

How sweet,
the sound that the birds make,
but to heaven I am no nearer.

I am deaf
and helpless
on a carpet of leaves,

watching you go
southwards, over the sea
to Madeira...

- - - - -

Just behind the Cathedral,
there is a place where we used to meet:

it is the hinterland,
where the sea ends

and the land
stretches to the hills.

If I climb to the top,
I may catch a last look,

as the sun dips
and it reflects your face at the window.

After that,
let it rain...

let the wind blow hard,
as the night takes you safely home...


Jarvo 2018

For S.

Replied: 8th Dec 2018 at 13:24

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