Poetry of Kansas Here & Now, There & Then

A meadowlark snubs
the split rail fence, the crows’ cacophony,
and soars,

stretching its wings in weightless
ecstasy, its yellow throat
shrouded by the glaring light,
its song, still thought, about to thaw
the dawn––

and far below in leafy
camouflage, the hunter waits.

– Gloria Vando

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