DAYS

by: Karle Wilson Baker (1878-1960)

      ome 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.

"Days" is reprinted from Blue Smoke. Karle Wilson Baker. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1919.

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