RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Birds calling to each other through a gentle morning breeze.
Statues of children - little twins - looking up, watching
birds flit from branch to branch and away.
Shadows playing with one another across the desert ground,
hiding behind rocks and trees.
Placatingly peaceful, quiet, solemn.
A joyful memory of someone I knew brings a tear.
His wheelbarrow, rake and shovel awaiting his spiritual return.
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