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. After
2. Telling the Bees
3. Wise
4. Oh, gray and tender is the rain
5. The Deserted House

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