Wind (verse)
Hanlon, John
The limp leaves wake, dull branches stir With rustling hope and—grimier Than green—grass murmurs; blossoms lift Their dusty heads; far, dark clouds drift Down the cruel blue to soothe the...
...far, dark clouds drift Down the cruel blue to soothe the sting Of noon with their damp promising...
...Then breaks the wind, whose grateful scourge Drives imps of heat from city gorge And city square, recalling cool Birch grove and amber forest pool While window-boxes hail again Wind's merciful handmaiden, rain...
Vol. 6 • June 1927 • No. 8
