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A poem by Vachel Lindsay

Drying Their Wings

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Title:     Drying Their Wings
Author: Vachel Lindsay [More Titles by Lindsay]

(What the Carpenter Said)


The moon's a cottage with a door.
Some folks can see it plain.
Look, you may catch a glint of light,
A sparkle through the pane,
Showing the place is brighter still
Within, though bright without.
There, at a cosy open fire
Strange babes are grouped about.
The children of the wind and tide--
The urchins of the sky,
Drying their wings from storms and things
So they again can fly.





[The end]
Vachel Lindsay's poem: Drying Their Wings

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