Simi Valley, CA USA
This harmony of darkest blue
turns purple, says goodbye to you.
My mourning song is sung tonight
from the heights of twilight's tongue.
No need for flight with shaky wings,
I sing from afar,
of unblossoming seeds poorly sown,
grapes harvested alone,
wine we too quickly sipped.
Was it only mine?
My feathers may not flutter your heart,
though this voice surely will.
In the rain my farewell dies;
quills never crossed in clearest skies.