All morning long before her mirror
a girl with many colored combs
sat laboring at her yellow hair
and picked at breakfast's tea and crumbs.
The birds that by the window sang
furnished the somber boughs of trees
with gaiety enough to ring
a little louder than the breeze.
Now gold the leaves that fell to ground,
and now cascades of brittle red,
all put down gently by the wind
upon their kindred's wonted bed.
While earth, appareled like a girl,
at peace addressed the sun that day,
another, for an errant curl,
a wayward tress, could not be gay.
1986
a girl with many colored combs
sat laboring at her yellow hair
and picked at breakfast's tea and crumbs.
The birds that by the window sang
furnished the somber boughs of trees
with gaiety enough to ring
a little louder than the breeze.
Now gold the leaves that fell to ground,
and now cascades of brittle red,
all put down gently by the wind
upon their kindred's wonted bed.
While earth, appareled like a girl,
at peace addressed the sun that day,
another, for an errant curl,
a wayward tress, could not be gay.
1986
