Sorrowsong I heard whispers on the spring breeze: A celebration beneath the trees. It was arriving as soon as soon, Under this spring’s fullest moon. The procession began late afternoon, And on the wind a nameless tune. I followed, wandered far from home, To spy this observe all alone. And I sing my sorrowsong Beneath the smokestain moon. Of a world that may be gone, And is long past it’s noon. Still, I seek the fairy ring Once known on forest loam, And if I have to, I will sing And there will dance alone. I trailed these animals both great and small, They gathered ‘neath trees stern and tall. Assembled in a faintly glowing ring, From the darkness I heard voices sing. Music as water cool and clean, Or visions of a world that might have been. I watched from cover lying prone, Though they were many, I was most alone. Hear me sing my sorrowsong Beneath the smokestain moon. Of a world t...
Comments