Leny Roovers

The darkest hours....Flying Bird Sonnet

I saw a heron flying by my room tonight,
stark silhouette in grey against dusk's light.
Fat collars of dark clouds announced rain's blight
as skies flooded with soot that cut off sight.
Two tiny patches of soft gray remained
till those as well were smudged with ink and stained.
The world was shrouded in the deepest black,
when wavering light came peeping through a crack.
Light still was sluggish, as if bound and chained,
shrouds were lifted, dropped again, it pained
to watch sky struggle with the murky might.
No time was left to overcome the night,
men and birds sought shelter from this plight,
in firm belief tomorrow would be bright.

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