Sing the robins silver clouds
dancing on the ceiling there
glancing through my window shrouds
fairies spin in gentle prayer
above the moaning laughing throng
you arrive fragile and sweet
played dolce piercing a forte song
a clarinet weeps on a city street
memories dulled with exacting care
dreams worn soft as fine old lace
emboldened wings beat at the air
sip teardrops daintily from my face
outside a crowd a protest singing
inside one soul remembering
(c) 2017, by Hannah Six
Image: B W Townsend
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