Plains Are In A Shroud
Plains are in a shroud, Moon above is white, Everywhere about Snow in Moon's light. And birch-trees stay sad, Mournful, and so shy. Who is lost? Who 's dead? Is it really I?
PoetryVerse
PoetryVerse
Plains are in a shroud, Moon above is white, Everywhere about Snow in Moon's light. And birch-trees stay sad, Mournful, and so shy. Who is lost? Who 's dead? Is it really I?
Feel free to be first to leave comment.