A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides— You may have met him,—did you not His notice sudden is—
The Grass divides as with a Comb— A spotted Boy, not far— He likes his Hands full of the soft And marking passed—Has a scar—
- Emily Dickinson
A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides— You may have met him,—did you not His notice sudden is—
The Grass divides as with a Comb— A spotted Boy, not far— He likes his Hands full of the soft And marking passed—Has a scar—