Laggard Poem by Margaret Widdemer
Laggard
My mind is very swift and gay;
She flutters to and fro,
She knows a thousand things to play,
A thousand roads to go;
But oh, my heart will never play-
She sits and watches still
A stone she saw them set one day
Beside a low green hill.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: green
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8/28/2026 9:45:28 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
