Henry Kriescher

(Potsdam, New York, USA)

Snow Filled Fields

And a new day is born on the broad expanse of the snow
And man is now freed from the phantoms below -- and I must go!
I turn away -- the snow and its beauty my visit prolong --
But now day returns and my heart must leave with its song
That it gleaned from the stars and the moonlight's soft glow,
From the broad breast of the land and wide sweep of white snow.

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