|
|
| leaving Capistrano |
| a swallow's flight |
| across pale blue sky |
| thinned in the chill of the season |
| the bleached stucco tower's |
| clay tile roof |
| drinks the red glow |
| of a morning sun |
| struggling |
| against the persuading cold -- |
| a shoulder pushing in vain |
| the unwanted relative |
| that just won't leave anymore; |
| a wisp of white cloud lingers, |
| the bouquet of |
| dawn's redwine caress |
| slowly leaving, |
| washed in fresh light |
| of winter's first day. |
| © Jon Bohrn (1998) |
