Thistle Down

By Ethel

O Where?

A tuft of thistle-down,
Went through the air.
For a place to settle down,
I wondered...where?

Gliding smooth upon the breeze,
Its fluff was free.
Over thicket-patch and fence,
It moved so gloriously.

Within a second's time,
It went so high.
And darted for a space,
Beyond the reach of eye.

Our spirit...is a precious fluff,
And in our bodies...grow.
A time comes when the soul divides,
And in different ways...it goes.

Earth wraps the body tenderly,
And the sprit's solemn aire.
Slips away beneath the veil,
I wonder...where?


E.P. 1908 - 1989

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