The Visit
THE VISIT
Mellowed rose buds
In sweet morning dew
Stand glazed in amber dawn
Slightly yawning;
Basking in the warm sunshine
Green lizards mock
Smiling blades of grass;
Across the parkway
A swollen grave reflected
Another child nipped
In the bud of hope:
We wept the visit.
Copyright © Millard Lowe | Year Posted 2016
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