|Indiana on a Winter's Morn...|
As I was looking at this photo later, I thought of this lovely poem by Sara Teasdale...one of my favorite writers. Enjoy...
- I should be glad of loneliness
- And hours that go on broken wings,
- A thirsty body, a tired heart
- And the unchanging ache of things,
- If I could make a single song
- As lovely and as full of light,
- As hushed and brief as a falling star
- On a winter night.