Nighthawks Flying

At dusk the nighthawks dip and fly
Beween the purple bluffs and me:
Black wings against a tinted sky,
They make a strange uncertainty

Of sane things that daylight said,
As if word I chanced to miss,
A prelude I have never read
Were needed to interpret this.

Copyright permission to publish has been given by the
Carmel of the Mother of God, Pewaukee Wisconsin. All rights reserved.

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