Dance of Cranes On Coming Home
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It waits on the wedge of a field
no longer lonely, another
floats in for a landing above
a sea of yellow flowers
Who will forget that wonderful fuss,
the mock scolding of an absence
now being celebrated
The preaching by a full range of
vocals - wing tips folding and unfolding
against a new, and thinking sky
For Andrea's SF Contest
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013
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