MY FOLK’S the wind-folk, it’s there I belong,
I tread the earth below them, and the earth does me wrong,
Before my spirit knew itself, before this frame unfurled,
I was a little wandering breeze and blew about the world.
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The whimpering airs that cry! with the muse of nature at work. Nice peice.
’But the wind-folk is my folk, and some day I’ll go.’ Beautiful poem. I like this.
Multithemed poem on love and departure from this world, so sweet, so nice.
Such a great piece of work