by Miller Williams
She lies in the grass and spreads her golden hair
across the grass, as if for simple joy
in being what she is, quietly aware
that she is not a tree or horse or boy.
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Rebecca At Play
Poems of the Day
She lies in the grass and spreads her golden hair
across the grass, as if for simple joy
in being what she is, quietly aware
that she is not a tree or horse or boy.