This day is ever mine to live again.
Though wind and rain in fury may deform
And mutilate, I shall remember when
A timid rainbow stopped a month of storm.
This gentle month is mine, and in the fall
When cold winds shriek and chill of frost invites
My thoughts to winter fens, I shall recall
Rose-syllabled, soft-spoken summer nights.
I have stored cradle moons--performing duty--
With coral dawns, a robin's crystal bars,
The sighs of aspens ... From my garnered beauty
I can give last year's lilacs and bright stars.
