ONLY the dusty common road,
The glaring weary heat;
Only a man with a soldier’s load,
And the sound of tired feet.
Only the lonely creaking hum
Of the cicada’s song;
And a broken fence where tall weeds come
With spik?d fingers strong.
Only a drop of the heaven’s blue
Left in a wayside cup, —
A cup of joy for the plodding few
And eyes that look not up.
Only a weed to the passer-by,
Growing among the rest;
Yet something clear as the light of the sky
It lodges in my breast.
(Annie Adams Fields)
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Based on Topics: Man Poems, Light Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Heaven Poems, Soldiers Poems, Weeds PoemsBased on Keywords: lodges, cicada, spik