Poems ✍️
  04.10.2025
  9

Author: Carl Sandburg

Poppies

She loves blood-red poppies for a garden to walk in.
In a loose white gown she walks
and a new child tugs at cords in her body.
Her head to the west at evening when the dew is creeping,
A shudder of gladness runs in her bones and torsal fiber:
She loves blood-red poppies for a garden to walk in.


  Nature motherhood joy beauty

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