Birds Turning South

stacking wood,
chill morning air...
birds turning south.

axe and boots,
old truck loaded down....
birds turning south.

dreams and passions,
tied down and loaded,
birds turning south.

memory stained moments,
when the earth stoppt turning...
birds turning south.

now nothing more than
empty nests, a stray feather...
birds rurning south!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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