Sixteen Months
C
Carl Sandburg
0
Altın Yaprak
On the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams.
It is a thin spiral of blue smoke,
A morning campfire at a mountain lake.
On the lips of the child Janet,
Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn,
Young light blue calls to young light gold of morning.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş