Wishful

By: Paul Bratter

Standing still, birds sing

Perched under black leaves cold

Harmonious quiet notes ring


Hoping for you to bring

Birds to sing, fall so bold

To make loose. (leaves that cling)


Clear the cold that stings

Melt my dark mold

Remove abhorred dings.


Show the bird sing

Behind eyelids lulled

Destroy what seems to cling


And hide, harmonies ring

Then, clear the cold.

Let the arrow sting


From tight bow string

And perice the mold

That I and you both bring

And lead our lives to cling.

WISHFULP
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