deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Fieldfare

Down by the old buckthorn bush
where grey fieldfare come to nest
grasses grow and warm winds blow
and I lay my weary head to rest
 
Out there near the seashore
where the tide has come to call
I wonder if you're watching
past the prison of your walls
 
As I soak up all the flavors
of the fragrance in the air
I close my eyes and ponder
if you would ever reappear
 
But time tics on by so quickly
those moments turn into years
I look out among the currents
alone with fieldfare and my tears
JusTim_
Written by JusTim_
Published
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