Poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese

A Windflower

The wind stooped down and wrote a sweet, small word,
But the snow fell, and all the writing blurred:
Now, the snow gone, we read it as we pass,—
The wind’s word in the grass.

1. Herbs
2. A Song for Candlemas
3. Mid-March
4. Lydia is gone this many a year
5. Oh, gray and tender is the rain

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