WINTER WILLOWS
The ice drifts in battered slips
Across the snow Maumee,
Where the willow hangs in glass
That drips, like weeping
To pocket the snow
Like sponge
The ice drifts in battered slips
Across the snow Maumee,
Where the willow hangs in glass
That drips, like weeping
To pocket the snow
Like sponge