A Windflower
The wind stooped down and wrote a sweet, small word,
But the snow fell, and all the writing blurred:
Now, the snow gone, we read it as we pass,—
The wind’s word in the grass.
But the snow fell, and all the writing blurred:
Now, the snow gone, we read it as we pass,—
The wind’s word in the grass.
— Lizette Woodworth Reese, for more see A Branch of May
This poem is offered as part of our March theme: Air, Breath, Wind
T.S. Poetry
Lovely.
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I’m glad you enjoyed. 🙂
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