Tolstoy

You emerged from aristocracy
In belted linen tunic
Moving among local peasants
With a splash of iris
Through birch lined paths
Like a sudden vision of egrets
Breathing scent of horses
Working plows and fields
Until your soul swelled singing
The tune of the harvesting reaper
In crisp dawn mist.

by Diana Kwiatkowski Rubin

Other poems of DIANA KWIATKOWSKI RUBIN (2)

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