The Field - A Beginning

Monday 14 November 2011

Drifting Leaves

Drifting Leaves



We drift and we care not whither,
Why should we care?
For You are at the end of all journeys
By vision or prayer.

Blow us O Wind, O blow us
Whither you will.
Every leaf that November casts clay-ward
Shall its own place fill.
-Patrick Kavanagh
Copyright © Estate of Katherine Kavanagh
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1 comment:

  1. Louise seddon14 November 2011 at 11:26

    Think of this poem when you are sweeping up leaves, makes it a more bearable task -:)

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