Meadow Cries

The meadowlark tenderly cries,
as it squats down upon,
that bloodless pale white fence,
always singing before it flies,
for it cannot soar,
with infant wings and an infant heart,
among the bloodless unborn flowers,
before life restores,
so the meadowlark croons,
its maiden unsullied warble,
to awake the color in the daisies,
till they are white as the moon,
it gives yellow to the daffodils,
and green to the clovers,
his beating heart blooming,
with each sweet shrill,
and the meadowlark gingerly cries,
as he guards over this life,
ascertaining that everything will bloom,
when his song tenderly begins to rise.


-anna sluder

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