 |
| Photo courtesy of Craig Sargent |
In the country fields all the
wreckage of winter was being dispersed; the dead leaves, the withered bracken,
the dry and discolored grass, but no bud would be broken, nor would the new
stalks that showed above the earth take any harm, and perhaps to–morrow a line
of blue or yellow would show through a slit in their green. Night
and Day (393)
No comments:
Post a Comment