The Cry

I heard the wind cry last night
As it rode the sky
With a full moon in sight.

Over the hills and far away,
My bones began to chant,
A piper's dream is wandering.

A startled crow took sudden flight,
Circling with long strokes
And calling out his fright.

How can I rejoin the world
Of timber torn from trees,
Of rocks reborn as walls of stone?

Something in me echoes every
Lonely, striving sound—
Promising redemption

If I throw my tame ways down.

©2016 Michael Fraley

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