About the time swallows are due
I have come home:
Back to the country of grey eyes,
Grey rivers, and grey clouds.
Walking these woods,
Frugally greening, tree by tree,
Where the wild daffodils
Toss out chill water
From small muzzles,
And the green yaffle stifles a laugh,
I am right glad
To be again where spring will not be hustled,
Where rivers sing like blackbirds,
And where friends and love
Kindle reluctantly
But last a lifetime.
© The Estate of Dorothy Cowlin 1983–2021. All rights reserved.