上一页英文诗词首页


 by Chase Twichell

    Whenever I look

    out at the snowy

    mountains at this hour

    and speak directly

    into the ear of the sky,

    it's you I'm thinking of.

    You're like the spirits

    the children invent

    to inhabit the stuffed horse

    and the doll.

    I don't know who hears me.

    I don't know who speaks

    when the horse speaks.

上一篇: To the Reader: Polaroids

下一篇: cutting greens

  • 相关推荐