Nightingale (The Fleeing Night)


The lonely nightingale

In his despair

Farewells

The fleeing night

And anthems me

Most mournfully

As if he knows

My very heart

I, for whom

This lovely morn

Unparalleled

In nature’s grace

Pales

As I stand here

Fading

As always

In your wake

© Ann Bagnall

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