55849: The Wind's Song

<p dir="ltr"> Dull thoughted, walking among the nunneries<br> Of many a myriad anemones<br> In the close copses, I grew weary of Spring<br> Till I emerged and in my wandering<br> I climbed the down up to a lone pine clump<br> Of six, the tallest dead, one a mere stump.<br> On one long stem, branchless and flayed and prone,<br> I sat in the sun listening to the wind alone,<br> Thinking there could be no old song so sad<br> As the wind's song; but later none so glad<br> Could I remember as that same wind's song<br> All the time blowing the pine boughs among.<br> My heart that had been still as the dead tree<br> Awakened by the West wind was made free.<br></p>