The fields are snowbound no longer; There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green. The snow has been caught up into the sky -- So many white clouds -- and the blue of the sky is cold. Now the sun walks in the forest, He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; They shiver, and wake from slumber. Over the barren branches he shakes his yellow curls. Yet is the forest full of the sound of tears.... A wind dances over the fields. Shrill and clear the sound of her waking laughter, Yet the little blue lakes tremble And the flags of tenderest green bend and quiver. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO W.E.B. DUBOIS - SCHOLAR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A PLANTATION BACCHANAL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR |