Ignorant* Am*i* Of*your*ways Poem by James McLain
Ignorant* Am*i* Of*your*ways
Blissfully unaware,
I breath your last care.
Coming it sighs to me.
Willowy green leaves of which I
bleed, the tree top is bent.
Graceful breaze to stir my heavy chest
of tresses are yours.
Hold it not to high up,
for I may loose my way climbing down.
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4/19/2024 4:51:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
If lost, follow the wind's song. Dorothy