Days
Karle Wilson Baker
Some days my thoughts are just cocoons—all cold, and dull, and blind, They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind; And other days they drift and shine—such free and flying things! I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings.
![[Poetry X Logo]](http://poetryx.com/images/poetryXLogo.gif)
