You are a bird, you are
An arrow  and a
Bow, stretched, ready
To release yourself
And fly where we
Cannot follow - your
Wings  are sure, the
Very air is subject to your
Whim  - you go to him
And know  that here,
Your figure seen, your
Purpose firm, once
Done you
Had no  need to stay
To comfort us. We  stood
And watched you  fly away.
Collected Works
Return to Collections all
next poem