Leaving

On my way home
I touched the stone
Of my local church.
And longed to stay
With the singing birds
On this summer evening.
I have oft heard
The birds singing
And regretted leaving.

I envy them
For, unlike men
They do not weep.
For they see not
The final sleep.
While I
Knowing that man must die
Have the beauty of birdsong,
Which does not last long

4 thoughts on “Leaving

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