I come home and here is this poem in my email box. My egret wasn't crying, only saying, "Look up, and see the air I pare like apples for you to taste."
by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
And what did I see I had not seen before?
Only a question less or a question more;
Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
Wild swans, come over the town, come over
The town again, trailing your legs and crying!