Forty-seven cranes
Standing, staring
Red crowns, long legs
Necks outstretched
Wings spread
As a pebble skips through the water
Forty-seven take flight
All that’s left
Are whisps of air
From their departing wings
Originally posted August 3, 2016
Forty-seven cranes
Standing, staring
Red crowns, long legs
Necks outstretched
Wings spread
As a pebble skips through the water
Forty-seven take flight
All that’s left
Are whisps of air
From their departing wings
Originally posted August 3, 2016
toshtamurapoetry.wordpress.com 