WHEN your soft welcomings were said, This curl was waving on your head, And when we walked where breakers dinned It sported in the sun and wind, And when I had won your words of grace It brushed and clung about my face. Then, to abate the misery Of absentness, you gave it me. Where are its fellows now? Ah, they For brightest brown have donned a gray, And gone into a caverned ark, Ever unopened, always dark! Yet this one curl, untouched of time, Beams with live brown as in its prime, So that it seems I even could now Restore it to the living brow By bearing down the western road Till I had reached your old abode. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MIDSUMMER BIRDS by ROBERT FROST I SING OF LOVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SHALL I SAY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WINDFLOWER LEAF by CARL SANDBURG GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: OVER THE MACKINAC by KAREN SWENSON SARAH'S MONSTERS by KAREN SWENSON WRITTEN FOR MY SON, AND SPOKEN BY HIM AT HIS FIRST PUTTING ON BREECHES by MARY BARBER |