The Night Wind Poem by Ina Coolbrith
The Night Wind
(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!
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: song
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8/28/2026 10:04:35 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
