Easter, by Geoffrey Thurley After the snow, the piles of drying clay. /
The foothills sprout a mushroom mass. /
The wind is dancing about the plain, /
Like an affectionate ...
Snow gone, mounds of clay are drying..., by Merrill Sparks and Vladimir Markov Snow gone, mounds of clay are drying. /
Mold of mushrooms on the foothills. /
On the plains the wind is dancing — /
Like a gentle small red donk...