Clown In The Moon

by Dylan Thomas

(1914-1953)
My tears are like the quiet drift
Of petals from some magic rose;
And all my grief flows from the rift
Of unremembered skies and snows.

I think, that if I touched the earth,
It would crumble;
It is so sad and beautiful,
So tremulously like a dream.

Published by Robin

I'm a retired journalist who still has stories to tell. This seems to be a good place to tell them.

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