Drought weights the trees, and from the farmhouse eaves
The locust, pulse-beat of the summer day,
Throbs; and the lane, that shambles under leaves
Limp with the heat–a league of rutty way –
Is lost in dust; and sultry scents of hay
Breathe from the panting meadows heaped with sheaves.
– from "The Rain-Crow" by Madison Cawein (1865 – 1914)
Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.
|trainingupachild on Scope and Limitations of Child…|
|Ruth Henderson on A New Chapter|
|Kimberly Bass on Interpreting the Present …|
|Allie on Interpreting the Present …|
|kemi rupert on Interpreting the Present …|
- 8,457 hits