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Aug 2018
The wild sigh
How it wavers and whips
Through the freshly cut sky
No man to see
Or to follow it
As it flees
And it fly's
Like a harvest scythe
Beneath the gentle breeze
It cracks
And whips
Stiring the sleeping mouth beneath
With it's shadowy eyes
How the fisherman
Doth crave the catch
So also does escape
The fly
Whip whip. Roll roll.
Colm
Written by
Colm
  283
       ---, Logan Robertson and Carrie Crusoe
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