The Point of View
I overtook her on the bridge
Loitering in the morning gray,
And straight she told me all her heart
In her direct and childish way.
"Helen was sick for long," she said,
And slipped a trustful hand in mine.
"She never had to go to school,
And she had oranges . . . and wine! .. .
"When Helen died, you should have seen
The flowers, so many and so bright-
Red roses all about her face . . .
And Helen's face so very white!"
Structure
12 lines · 3 stanzas