The caw of birds across the lake
A coot and heron, one by one
Arrive from who knows where – and wait.
On the far side, barren trees
Scarce hide the neoclassic pile
The International school – a frieze
That adds Man’s touch to nature’s style.
The wind that can’t be seen, is heard
Pale blossoms cling for life, intent
On reminding us that spring has stirred
And soon will chase away cold Lent!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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