On the hillside
On the hillside
facing the morning sun
how clear and straight each weed is.
On our way to the subway this morning
the wind blows handfuls of white petals upon us
from the blossoming tree on the hillside;
how like confetti —
but, of course,
this is the festival of spring.
facing the morning sun
how clear and straight each weed is.
On our way to the subway this morning
the wind blows handfuls of white petals upon us
from the blossoming tree on the hillside;
how like confetti —
but, of course,
this is the festival of spring.
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