When did he leave?
It was night, very late.
The last owl swooped,
soft as whispers of love.
I wish I had been there.
He said you would say that.
Arthur, smooth, well written. Though maybe more like the owl.
Thanks.
Gary
Tina March guest and Gar tells tales at:
http://gardawg.homestead.com/gardawg.html,
Poets for Peace. ˇPoemas sí, balas no!
|