BLACK CAT POEMS
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To a Stranger
Ruth Thomas Pickering
I have seen you arise and go forth in the
And run up a white winding way
To the top of a hill, through the grass under
Where you chased the wild wind in your play.
You were mad when you tossed back your bare head and laughed,
When you caught at a star in its fall,
It changed to a glimmering moth and flew by--
O tonight, when you pass, will you call?
poems by Ruth Thomas Pickering