(C) R.L.K.
Yesterday there were sparrows
in the treetops and over them
a sky beyond blue. This morning
no birds sing and dark clouds
crowd the rooftops. Umbrella in hand,
you follow the old sidewalk, moving
slowly, weighted down with farewells.
Passing the park, you notice that the wind
is nudging the empty swings. The rain
falls like sadness on the grass
and you hear in the distance
another train bound bound for nowhere.
