A Birthday Poem
Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.
poem by Ted Kooser
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Also see the following:
- quotes about time
- quotes about green
- quotes about red
- quotes about walking
- quotes about black
- quotes about past
- quotes about white
- quotes about Sun
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