the gray wind is jealous
the trembling moon preens
silvery
diffusion
through the trees
her face, moonlit, shines upward
she prays for his return — the wind sighs itself down
and lofts
into the forest lace
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the gray wind is jealous the trembling moon preens silvery diffusion through the trees
her face, moonlit, shines upward she prays for his return — the wind sighs itself down and lofts into the forest lace
Author notesdo not make any sort of critical remark on my poetry without my permission In a listComments
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