The moon’s the north wind’s cookie.
He bites it day by day…
Until there’s but a rim of scraps
That crumbles all away.
The south wind is a baker.
She kneads clouds in her den
And bakes a crisp new moon
That greedy north wind eats again.
I’ve been reciting this poem in my head the whole day. I don’t know why. I can’t even remember who wrote it. I just remember liking this poem when I was in high school. What in the world could have brought up this poem from the deep recesses of my mind?
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3 comments:
Vachel Lindsay wrote that beautiful verse.
I love that poem so much, My grandmother used to sing that to me, I think she made up the tune tho
This was the first poems my kids memorized. I have beautiful memories of them reciting when their speech was still very difficult to understand at about 2 years of age. Both are grown now so it's a great memory!
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