Harriet Monroe

(23 December 1860 – 26 September 1936 / Chicago, Illinois)

A Garden In The Desert


So light and soft the days fall—
Like petals one by one
Down from yon tree whose flowers all
Must vanish in the sun.

Like almond-petals down, dear,
Odorous, rosy-white,
Falling to our green world here
Off the thick boughs of night.

One like another still lies—
Tomorrow is today.
Always the buzzing bee flies,
Who never flies away.

Ever the same blue sky rounds
Its chalice for the sun.
The mountains at the world's bounds
Their purple chorals run.

And ever you and I, friend,
Free of this mortal scheme,
Look out beyond desire's end
And dream the spacious dream.

Submitted: Friday, April 16, 2010

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