
intone buoyant melody of interior song—
render me languid and cloy and worn;
the wind rustles pea pods gently grown
their delicate clatter rattles forth and on
from over the horizon as just one thought
or even another one is formed.
this, in my private alphabet or hers alone;
in a zephyr's gust a woodwind whir,
with a soupçon of purr in now familiar tone,
sings to me, my caroler, in modern form.
4 comments:
very sensible ...
well Laura,
how've
you been?
btw:
"La coperta familiare che si chiama malinconia" is wonderful!
noxy.
Noxy, hallo,
hier entblätterst du dich sozusagen selbst, lächel...
wundervoll!!!
ich komme sehr gern immer schauen..
herzlich, Rachel
hello Rachel,
yes, blown
in the wind,
in springtime!
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