February Poem by Ralph Hodgson
February
Rating: ★2.9
A few tossed thrushes save
That carolled less than cried
Against the dying rave
And moan that never died,
No bird sang then; no thorn,
No tree was green beside
Them only never shorn -
The few by all the winds
And chill mutations born
Of Winter's many minds
Abused and whipt in vain -
Swarth yew and ivy kinds
And iron breeds germane.
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4/18/2024 7:23:46 AM # 1.0.0.1119
