Laying on the the sun-warmed grass,
gazing at the clouds
A few linger, some pass,
moving swiftly; grief crowds
I send my sorrow up into the sky
The eyes, a well of tears,
I don't want to say goodbye
A swallowtail now flutters around my head
Someone's come to visit you, a little voice said
© Donna H.
September 10, 2025
gazing at the clouds
A few linger, some pass,
moving swiftly; grief crowds
I send my sorrow up into the sky
The eyes, a well of tears,
I don't want to say goodbye
A swallowtail now flutters around my head
Someone's come to visit you, a little voice said
© Donna H.
September 10, 2025