To The Child Who Runs Poem by Georges Schehadé

To The Child Who Runs



To the child who runs in a forest full
of silken whistles
I say that I prefer
the one who sleeps in a June garden
slightly sorrowful
for the solitude of the images
and the dawn and the stealers of water

Saturday, November 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: child
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