The Mist and All
by Dixie Willson
(To be read slowly and quietly. It's not mine, but it is a perenial favorite, like a dear friend you see only once a year but think of often.)
(To be read slowly and quietly. It's not mine, but it is a perenial favorite, like a dear friend you see only once a year but think of often.)
I like the fall
The mist and all
I like thenight owl’s lonely call
And wailing sound
Of wind around
The mist and all
I like the
And wailing sound
Of wind around
I like the gray
November day
And dead, bare boughs that coldly sway
Against my pane
I like the rain
November day
And dead, bare boughs that coldly sway
Against my pane
I like the rain
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