Evening Poetry, May 10

To a Child

by Sophie Jewett

The leaves talked in the twilight, dear;
   Hearken the tale they told:
How in some far-off place and year,
   Before the world grew old,

I was a dreaming forest tree,
   You were a wild, sweet bird
Who sheltered at the heart of me
   Because the north wind stirred;

How, when the chiding gale was still,
   When peace fell soft on fear,
You stayed one golden hour to fill
   My dream with singing, dear.

To-night the self-same songs are sung
   The first green forest heard;
My heart and the gray world grow young—
   To shelter you, my bird.

You can find this in The Poems of Sophie Jewett (1910).

Evening Poetry, May 8

My Mother

by Jane Kenyon

My mother comes back from a trip downtown to the dime

store. She has brought me a surprise. It is still in her purse.

She is wearing her red shoes with straps across the in-

step. They fasten with small white buttons, like the eyes

of fish.

She brings back zippers and spools of thread, yellow and

green, for her work, which always takes her far away, even

though she works upstairs, in the room next to mine.

She is wearing her blue plaid full-skirted dress with the

large collar, her hair fastened up off her neck. She looks

pretty. She always dresses up when she goes downtown.

Now she opens her straw purse, which looks like a small

suitcase. She hands me a new toy: a wooden paddle with

a red rubber ball attached to it by an elastic string. Some-

times when she goes downtown, I think she will not come back.

You can find this poem and more in Otherwise: New & Selected Poems by Jane Kenyon.