Song Poem by Edward J. O'Brien

Song



She goes all so softly
   Like a shadow on the hill,
A faint wind at twilight
   That stirs, and is still.

She weaves her thoughts whitely,
   Like doves in the air,
Though a gray mound in Flanders
   Clouds all that was fair.

Edward J. O'Brien
Saturday, January 4, 2003
poem poems clouds
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Poems By Edward J. O'Brien
Song
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Edward J. O'Brien

Edward J. O'Brien

Edward J. O'Brien
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