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The Garden Beyond Forgetting

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In the garden beyond forgetting Where the first light lives I hear the crystal call Of a robin that drifts In time as soft seeds do To never fall but ever glide In the cool, clear air. And, further out, in the forest Between the twigs of facing trees Where the air clings Like spider's silk Stretched upon a screen I hear the strange, unearthly call Of a nightingale Beat upon the day To confuse, awe and boil The summer air away.

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Kim Rodrigues

Date: 9/14/2023 8:31:00 AM

Very nice! Congratulations!

Diane Leggett
Date: 9/14/2023 10:09:00 AM

Thanks Kim!