The roofs are shining from the rain,
The sparrows twitter as they fly,
As with a windy April grace
The little clouds go by.
Yet the back yards are bare and brown
With only one unchanging tree—
I could not be so sure of Spring
Save that it sings in me.
—Sar Teasdake
—Sent in by Mrs. Marie Wing of Camillus, N.Y.
