Swift

The Swifts lace the early –
Summer evening air
With cries of despair like
The melancholy of my heart

I feel the warm atmosphere
On my skin like the comfort
Of my broken spirit
Where I dwell in this self pity

And soon the heady
Days of green and sun
Will go, and my spirit will
Leave quickly like the Swifts

justintuijl (2014)

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