Two small poems and a link:
AN HOUR [Czeslaw Milosz (1911-2004)]
Leaves glowing in the sun, zealous hum of bumblebees,
From afar, from somewhere beyond the river, echoes of lingering voices
And the unhurried sounds of a hammer gave joy not only to me.
They waited, ready, for all those who would call themselves mortals,
So that they might praise, as I do, life, that is, happiness.
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TODAY
This evening's walk to the mailbox:
listening for early Spring dusk chorus:
a card from a friend, too long gone unheard.
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