Night Wind, The Poem by Ina D. Coolbrith
Night Wind, The
(Song)
The night wind in its passing
Sweeps the blossoms of the tree,
And fragrance, like a melody,
Is wafted up to me.
I know not whence, nor whither,
Of fragrance born, of song,
But O, but O, the memories
Tonight that ‘round me throng!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: song
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8/27/2026 1:36:39 AM # rel_20260826T082754Z_99b456e
