Monday, May 21, 2012


When the sun smiled faintly
as Mona Lisa
the birds
were no longer heard.

In the dim dusk
a low flash
of orange and gray
crossed my path

silent winging
to the moored tree
now hidden
among the shadow leaves

she wore the camouflage of solitude

a song
in the resting of voices
was all

by troy cady

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