The fluttering, bright, green leaves
Were hacking their way through the wind,
Clattering as only poplars can;
Those poplars,
Tall havens for bickering starlings,
Were waving endlessly to
The bright blue sky;
Constant friends
To heaven and us creatures of the earth,
Never stopping to ask
What the other’s worth.
Cy. August, 1983.
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