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Stuttering winds blow across
Clouds tinted by the failing sun.
Brittle air softens,
Now a faded blue–
Shade of an old man’s watery eyes.
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A late flock of Sandhill cranes lift off,
Pale bodies blending in the
Twilight with legs
Flowing dark streamers,
Their celestial cries fall to
Earth–
A harsh, chiding rain.
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The trees in the valley
Are massed in darkness
As waning light leaches
Color from nature,
Creeps from field to hillock
And all below prepares for the
Rising of the Corn Moon.
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Even frogs in the pond
Listen between croaks
For the intention of the night.
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A mourning dove cries
It is such a mournful sound
Perhaps a fierce owl
Has made it a widow.
Oh! It breaks my heart, her cry.
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Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2015, from “White Cranes of Heaven”, Lulu.com, 2011.
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Tags: "White Cranes of Heaven", Autumn, Autumn Dusk, lulu.com, poems, tanka
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