In The Early, Uneven Twilight
P Patti Masterman
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In the early, uneven twilight
You hold my hand in yours
The wind breathes for us
As we reach the tallest trees:
You stand
Apart, and gaze,
Your eyes say softer things
Than stars, meadows
Or plains.
My eyes reply
In midnight tones
That stretch to touch
The old refrains.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş