Page:Fiddler's Farewell.djvu/60

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Migration

The dawn is dizzy with birds:
Summer's last handful scattered wide,
Summer's last pennies sung aside!

Jingle of birds in the dawn:
Hedges and bushes in beggared need,
Lifting brown hands with a desolate greed!

Spendthrift content in the dawn:
Squandered uncounted across the sky,
But into no purse will these winged coins fly!

The dawn is a resolute path
Of irresolute flight and dim half-tunes—
But I am a miser of hoarded Junes!

The dawn is dizzy with birds.

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