The Brook (Ina Donna Coolbrith Poems)
THROUGH the dreary winter,Ice-locked, white, and chill!All its laughter sleeping,All its music still;Not a flower to love itFrom the bank ...
THROUGH the dreary winter,Ice-locked, white, and chill!All its laughter sleeping,All its music still;Not a flower to love itFrom the bank ...
Insect or blossom? Fragile, fairy thing,Poised upon slender tip, and quiveringTo flight! a flower of the fields of air;A jeweled ...
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