Holder Volcano       
Member of the Uzbek Union of Writers 



Crane voices



Cranes are circling over fields and meadows,
crying pitifully high in the sky,
as if saying goodbye to the expanses of swamps.
Their sad voices remind me
of the creaking of an empty swing, on which
a lonely wind is quietly swinging
in an empty autumn park,
where you and I used to walk with
slow steps so that the road
would not end and would last indefinitely.



28/04/2023.
7:34 am.
Canada, Ontario.