a call sounded in the night.
The sky was clear,
the stars were out,
and magic called from the darkness.
We had no expectations, just a
"Wouldn't it be cool if..." attitude.
Yet there he was -
rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he sang:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Rewarding our climb up the steep hill,
he flew:
Chuck Will's Widow.
Grace.
Day 30 - last day!
1 comment:
Aww, is the end of napowrimo calling from the darkness. I hope I can keep this poem a day habit. How about you?
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