Nona Vaught

Mt. Vernon, Indiana, USA

A Quiet Song

Once, by chance, a quiet song drifted,
Softly, it could hardly be heard,
A light breeze lifted it, played with it,
Instilling a moment of joy.
I listened, just beyond reach there,
Not much more than a hushed whisper,
Like a spider's thread, in and out
Of sight, comes and goes, now and then.
All too soon, like a night vision,
A cloud that floats across the earth,
Vanish, disappear like shadows,
Never to be heard again.
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