PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Last spring a flock of sandhill cranes

soared above the meadow path,

squawking their prehistoric call

on their way up from Nebraska,

northeastward in search of a place to breed

amid prairie grassland, cattail sloughs,

and fields of oats and wheat

Anticipating southern winds

blood red peony shoots

honeybee hubbub and fuzzy willows,

all and forever seemed possible

A song formed in my heart

and for just a moment

eternity beckoned

as we called to each other

in the here and now

of last spring