The Sun And A Birch Tree

By Elizabeth Madox Roberts

As I came home through Howard’s lane,
The trees were bending down with rain.
A still mist went across their tops,
And my coat was powdered gray with drops.
Then I looked in the woods to see
The limbs of the white birch tree.
It made a bright spot in the air,
And I thought the sun was shining there.

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