Connie Laurent

(Mexico D.F., Mexico, USA)

The Seasons

This wooded path I found one day,
When the canopy above was tender green
With fragile, newborn leaves,
And the lustrous light a misty sheen
On the moist branches of the trees.
The rosy world each morn reborn
To the awakening miracle of spring,
With piping thrush and singing lark,

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