London Poem: Day 229

3 April

Swallows curve and dip into
Long, silent waterfalls
Telling us that spring has come.
The absent, tireless chirp
Singing their songs with
Great roaring melodies,
Which bend and turn one
After another. One bashful
Collide, and it becomes something
Else. Moving, changing, revolving,
We just never know.

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Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

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