Briefly and beautifully, this poem speaks for itself.
Briefly It Enters, Briefly Speaks
I am the blossom pressed in a book,
found again after two hundred years. . . .
I am the maker, the lover, and the keeper....
When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me. . . .
I am food on the prisoner's plate. . . .
I am water rushing to the wellhead,
filling the pitcher until it spills. . . .
(Read the rest here, at the Poetry Foundation.)
The Poetry Friday round up will be hosted today at Great Kid Books.
(Read the rest here, at the Poetry Foundation.)
The Poetry Friday round up will be hosted today at Great Kid Books.
4 comments:
A perfect choice for this week, Karen. Thank you.
Lovely poem. Thanks for sharing.
Oh I like this a lot. Thank you for sharing.
That longest hair, white before the rest, makes me smile.
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