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Flight
HC (29 January 1947 / New York, NY)

Flight

Poem By Hugh Cobb

Lapwings count moments
circling dead leaves.
Sky is amber with autumn.
As day fades light is cold & clear.
Your steps sound close at dusk,
moving with bird songs, winging.
I wait your soft voice in the night.
It sparkles with starlight, falling.
After sunset sky is a velvet cloak.
Sounds dominate where darkness reigns:
a rustle of dried grass, the stirring of leaves
with night's cold breeze...
I find you waiting in a field of stars.
With wind-rush'd wings we move together.
Our lives are border'd with flight.

(Copyright 11/21/05)

User Rating: 3,8 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

I really liked this poem, the images and the way it sounds. Good work!
As an impressionist piece this works brilliantly. I could imagine this as a painting by Monet or even Turner.


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