The Thistle - Poem by Tokiko Iwamoto
I remember the thistle there,
You pointed on a small path,
Fresh air as if after a bath,
Carried early summer over there.
You showed me the flower,
Telling me the name quietly,
Sweet breeze passed gently by,
We wanted to stay longer,
But spoke fewer still,
Only the thistle swaying,
Swinging in that dreamy morning.
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Tokiko Iwamoto's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You