(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963 / San Francisco)

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To The Thawing Wind

Come with rain. O loud Southwester! Bring the singer, bring the nester; Give the buried flower a dream; make the settled snowbank steam; Find the brown beneath the white; But whate'er you do tonight, bath my window, make it flow, Melt it as the ice will go; Melt the glass and leave the sticks Like a hermit's crucifix; Burst into my narrow stall; Swing the picture on the wall; Run the rattling pages o'er; Scatter poems on the floor; Turn the poet out of door.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: flower, rain, dream, wind, poem, running

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