Weather poems/ page 80 of 80 /
The sea took a sailor to its depths.--
His mother, unsuspecting, goes and lightsa tall candle before the Virgin Mary
for his speedy return and for fine weather --and always she turns her ear to the wind.
But while she prays and implores,the icon listens, solemn and sad,
They dredged an hour for words, and then were done.
Good-bye! You have the same old weather-vane
Your little horse thats always on the run.
And all the way down back to the next train,
Down the old hill to the old road again,
It seemed as if the little horse had won.