As the Grass Grows On the Weirs

In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.”
― W.B. Yeats, The Collected Poems

Crepe Myrtle trunk in the snow

Crepe Myrtle trunk in the snow

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