Caroling Dusk/Quatrains

For works with similar titles, see Quatrains.
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QUATRAINS


1

Brushes and paints are all I have
To speak the music in my soul—
While silently there laughs at me
A copper jar beside a pale green bowl.

2

How strange that grass should sing—
Grass is so still a thing. . . .
And strange the swift surprise of snow
So soft it falls and slow.

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