By: Ardis E. Parshall - October 04, 2016 Returning By Maryhale Woolsey After long years, and near the evening’s dark,I come again to this remembered placeWhich once was home to me. My eyes retraceThe landscape, finding no familiar mark.Old paths I walked, have vanished from the scene;These trees are children of tall trees I knew,Whose memory stands green and lovely throughThe thickening glass of time – unchanged, serene. And yet … ...
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