Wind at My Window

A shadow has just crept up to my window.
It has walked its listless tread through
Jasmine trees by a garden path,
Bringing his somber steps
To stand beneath a window ledge,
Shaking the leaves with his empty whispers,
And the scented vines and gay flowers
Must bear his wrath
Lisping their stems apart,
And perish.


Poetry by Eleonora

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