Wingless bird’s song of sooth.
Heart of torment weeps.
For the windy lover she can touch no more.
The tree of heritage has forgotten her name.
No seed will be sewn.
No springtime joy.
The peering sunrise brings empty notes.
And only silence remembers her song of sooth.
By B. Peterson
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 1:51 PM UTC
