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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448061" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>After Storm</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448061" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Was there a wind? Tap… tap… Night pads upon the snow with moccasined feet… and it is still… so still… an eagle's feather might fall like a stone. Could there have been a storm… mad-tossing golden mane on the neck of the wind… tearing up the sky… loose-flapping like a tent about the ice-capped stars?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=448061" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"> Cool, sheer and motionless<br> the frosted pines<br> are jeweled with a million flaming points<br> that fling their beauty up in long white sheaves<br> till they catch hands with stars.<br> Could there have been a wind<br> that haled them by the hair….<br> and blinding<br> blue-forked<br> flowers of the lightning<br> in their leaves?<br> Tap… tap…<br> slow-ticking centuries…<br> Soft as bare feet upon the snow…<br> faint… lulling as heard rain<br> upon heaped leaves….<br> Silence<br> builds her wall<br> about a dream impaled.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Lola+Ridge">Lola Ridge</a></strong></div>

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