A departure
Across the meadows,
bright with duty and waving flags,
between supple soldier stalks,
bee-wreathed and busy,
spring departs.
From the town,
the solemn sound
of the church bell tolling rolls
ebbing or flowing or both at once,
through the sky-chant,
ingenuous paean
to the moment now,
of a hundred meistersinging blackbirds.
A departure Across the meadows,bright with duty and waving flags,between supple soldier stalks,bee-wreathed and busy,spring departs. From the town,the solemn soundof the church bell tolling rollsebbing or flowing or both at once,through the sky-chant, ingenuous paeanto the moment now,of a hundred meistersinging blackbirds.Read MoreJane Dougherty Writes
