The Call (and memories)

A quiet afternoon,

Your deep sound ,

Oh so sad and sweet;

Brings back memories

Of a childhood long ago.

The melancholy of thoughts

From time so distant.


Is it true that you

Are a  harbinger of rain?

Is it possible that your

Call is so significant?

Where do you disappear

The rest of the year.


I hear you so often

But seldom see;

And can only hear

The  response

And understand

You are not alone.


So you disappear

And reappear

To give us good news

Of  more rains

And  more memories

Of times that unfold

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