forgetting

My last post made me think of Shel Silverstein; how I loved his poems when I was little; how our substitute teacher would read them to us if we were good for her; how I still love his poems.

"Forgotten Language" 
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers...
How did it go?
How did it go?
~ Shel Silverstein 

Comments

Toriafly said…
I love Shel Silverstein, how I miss those books!

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