A Woman of Thirty by Marjorie Allen Seiffert
page 48 of 85 (56%)
page 48 of 85 (56%)
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And pumpkins gold--?
Perhaps it's gayer To be old! October Afternoon The air is warm and winey-sweet, Over my head the oak-leaves shine Like rich Madeira, glossy brown, Or garnet red, like old Port wine. Wild grapes are ripening on the hill, Dead leaves curl thickly at my feet, Yet not one falls, it is so still. Crickets are singing in the sun, And aimlessly grasshoppers leap From discontent to discontent, Their days of leaping nearly done. There's a rich quietness of earth That holds no promise any more, And like a cup, Today is filled With the last wine the year shall pour. Maternity Sturdy is earth, Dull and mighty, Unresentful-- Of her own fertility Covering scars |
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