Drying their Wings

A poem by Vachel Lindsay

(Moon Poems for the Children/Fairy-tales for the Children)
(What the Carpenter Said)


The moon's a cottage with a door.
Some folks can see it plain.
Look, you may catch a glint of light,
A sparkle through the pane,
Showing the place is brighter still
Within, though bright without.
There, at a cosy open fire
Strange babes are grouped about.
The children of the wind and tide -
The urchins of the sky,
Drying their wings from storms and things
So they again can fly.

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