“Lesson,” by Carl Sandburg

In early April the trees
end their winter waiting
with a creep of green on branches.

  In early October the trees
  listen for a wind crying,
  for leaves whirling.

    The face of the river by night
    holds a scatter of stars
    and the silence of summer blossoms
    falling to the moving water.

      Come clean with a child heart.
      Laugh as peaches in the summer wind.
      Let rain on a house roof be a song.
      Let the writing on your face
          be a smell of apple orchards in late June.

I appreciate this poem so much because I know the writer’s inspiration.  I have been to his manse and walked a while in his shoes.

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