O What I Dream

I always dream...
Of that far-off barren land.
Of crater-ash and rock,
Of yellow clay and sand.

Where my youth...was blossomed,
And I grew to be a part.
Where I took the things about me,
And put them in my heart.

The grey of sage,
The perfume after rain.
The soil that stretched in redness,
Like ribbons on the plain.

The prickly-pare...so beautiful,
Caught the eye...so much.
And made their velvet petals,
So spiny to the touch.

Within my dreams I think upon,
These things I am assigned.
And the very thought of what I know,
Leave pictures in my mind.


E.P. 1908 - 1989