Poetry Archives

   “A little, passionately, not at all?“
   She casts the snowy petals on the air:
And what care we how many petals fall!

   Nay, wherefore seek the seasons to forestall?
   It is but playing, and she will not care,
A little, passionately, not at all!

   She would not answer us if we should call
   Across the years: her visions are too fair;
And what care we how many petals fall!

   She knows us not, nor recks if she enthrall
   With voice and eyes and fashion of her hair,
A little, passionately, not at all!

   Knee-deep she goes in meadow grasses tall,
   Kissed by the daisies that her fingers tear:
And what care we how many petals fall!

   We pass and go: but she shall not recall
   What men we were, nor all she made us bear:
“A little, passionately, not at all!”
And what care we how many petals fall!