Leaving
On my way home I touched the stone Of my local church. And longed to stay With the singing birds On this summer evening. I have oft heard The birds singing And regretted leaving. I envy them For, unlike men They do not weep. For they see not The final sleep. While I Knowing that man must die Have the beauty of birdsong, Which does not last long
Source: Leaving
Source: https://kmorrispoet.com
