From A Cradle Poem by Paul Josef
From A Cradle
A wind swept froth bubbles across the tips of the tall grass.
Butterflies, like fluttering gossamer, tumble down the breeze.
A rustling litany nestles on the treetops.
Zephyrs sway the world, and in its rocking I'm assured we're its children.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Topic(s) of this poem: children,wind
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8/28/2026 8:05:29 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
