Content

Your Letter

Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Green hill, oak tree, birds;
And I sitting alone, there -
Reading your letter.

I read, halt and move;
Wind blows, heart quiet still;
Gazing; thinking deep.

Letter, wind blows; sigh -
Birds ceased, tree cried, tears flow, I
Stood, ran and wept.

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Poetry Directory. We are listed under Experimental Contemporary category