I can hear the blackbird call
Charcoal feathered bantam weight
And the cherry blossoms fall
Porcelain transparency
Spring air through a window pane
Broken by the passing time
In an attic on a farm
Echoes granny’s lullaby
Past and future meeting here
In a never ending song
The blackbird in a different sphere
His melody endures
Memories of lilac scent
Purple iris bolted on
Suspended I am now–was then
Walking through a time beyond
Each note is a step I take
Each breeze is a breath
An image every memory makes
Until none is left
I am on my way back home
As the wild wind blows
Gone the years and bleached the bones
What’s left is a wandering soul
Finely-paced and evocative, Nathalie!
(I came back for a second read.🙂)
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Oh thank you! 🙂
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