Poem by Martha Dickinson Bianchi

Unanswered

I wanted you when skies were red,
And now the sky is gray;
I thought of you when shadows fled—
Now falls the end of day.

I called you when the hills were flame,        
And now the hills are bare;
I sought you when the snowflakes came,
And now the swallows pair!

1. A Priest’s Prayer
2. The Worlds
3. Reality
4. Heaven

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