Those caws that ruffled
Through your feathered tips
And tumbled from the sky,
Oh so wild and discordant.
But that one last call
That filtered down
And nestled in the pines,
That was a faint one.
A goodbye one.
A memory on the landscape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful sadness. Excellent write, douglas!