Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Hortus Conclusus

Over the high wall
Some leaves will fall
And float upon the pool’s still water.
Across the sky
A bird will fly
And pass its shadow over the bower.
No gust or breeze
Will sway the trees
Hedged about with brick and mortar.
Into this garden nook
No one may look
And tell what strange blossoms do flower.

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