Oh, the littles that remain!
Scent of mint out in the lane;
Flare of window; sound of bees; -
These, but these.
Three times sitting down to bread;
One time climbing up to bed;
Table-setting o'er and o'er;
Drying herbs for winter's store;
This thing; that thing;-nothing more.
But just now out in the lane,
Oh, the scent of mint was plain!
After
Lizette Woodworth Reese
(1)
Poem topics: time, winter, plain, remain, bread, sound, window, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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