Saturday, July 2, 2016

Ghost-towns





Before the world was chained
To the noise and toys of progress
Boys and girls would run
All day beneath the sun
Through the woods
Through the stream
Through the wild-flower bower
Shod with a dream
And the gleam of an hour
Taught by the bird 
And the green breath of trees
Where now woods ring hollow
Like a ghost-town
Of whispering leaves

© Janet Martin

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