The Blue Swallows – Homward Nemerov
Across the millstream below the bridge,
Damp moss
remembering the
Weight of
our bodies pressed together
For the
first time.
You told me
you were afraid
I wouldn’t love
you tomorrow,
I told you
not to worry.
Blue
Swallows called down
On us from a
blackened cavity
In the oak
tree, beside
the railroad
tracks.
As I trace
my hands along
The roughness
of the bridge,
I regret
lying to you,
Breaking your
heart.
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