Why does the thin grey strand Floating up from the forgotten Cigarette between my fingers, Why does it trouble me? Ah, you will understand; When I carried my mother downstairs, A few times only, at the beginning Of her soft-foot malady, I should find, for a reprimand To my gaiety, a few long grey hairs On the breast of my coat; and one by one I watched them float up the dark chimney. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONCERNING NECESSITY by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPOKEN AT A CASTLE GATE by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON ALIENS (TO YOU - EVERYWHERE! DEDICATED) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON RETURN (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |