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Page 10 · column 3 of 6 · from the scan, no model involved
“WINTER’S SIGNS”
by Georgia Standish * I.taste winter in the air I hear it in the gently blowing
wind I see it in the countryside about I feel it in the marrow of my
bones* •
Lj ■ :4 The corn, harvested stands guard Over well ripe pumpkins waiting The first frost, is here and gone Indian summer, was just a dream.
I taste winter in the air I bear it in the gently blowing
wind '1 Stately Oaks, Elms, your leaves
of green Now red and gold Birds and beasts girded with their
winter plumage The chill of early mom and night. I see winter in die countryside
about - I fed it in the marrow of my
bones.
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