5.11.2024
The birds came to my patio, A haven of safety and of rest From the threats they well did know Of the hunters. Here they were not stressed. They brought their young for me to feed With grains and varied nutritious seed And waited while the young ones fed. The lovely swan I loved is dead, By some crackers on the road Who ran her down beneath their wheels, Raving mad youths who carry the load Of bigotry and hate that seals The heart and mind in bitterness Unmindful of the earth's regress.
Poems 2024 (691)
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