Childhood I Can Hear Cries of the Wild Free
Childhood! I can hear cries of the wild-free
and the loud yell of the long lost, and for
souls, young as the new sapling, a strong tree
is always growing before mine and yours.
Still murmurs the cold ground
and the grass parting; oh
hear budding the fresh sound
and the ground broken so.
Copyright © Jake A. | Year Posted 2017
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