Meadowlark 

 

 You are the laborer laboring.
You are the aching back,
the body of sweat,
cursing your toil.

I am the meadowlark in flight,
bright river of memories drawn
and flowing through me.
 I am the keeper of the sun.

You are the paycheck seeking more.
You are the ledger on someone’s account,
ever-filed, ever-called
to do ever more.

I am the sun and stars at your sight,
the ever-present song in flight.

                           --Mike Bayles

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