At Thirty He Sings of a Day in Spring

Swift as the push of wind could drive me,

I ran the brookside,

Curving in and turning out

Toward the reaches of the distant meadows

Flaunting in the sun

Beyond my sight.

I cannot tell you why I ran.

I was ten years old . . .

And that morning Mother kissed me

And Father smiled a curious smile;

Then both of them turned me loose

Within the meadow,

White and green and gold

With the startled color of the May.

Perhaps they knew

I should find:the path

To the orchard,

On the sheltered southern hill

Where peach and apple bloom were mingled.

Perhaps they knew

That dark would find me

Waking from my dreams

Of meadows infinite and eternal,

Greener far than the meadows of the earth,

Where I could run forever.

Perhaps they knew that I would waken

Dusted over, pollen-scented,

With my eyes like meadow pools

Mirroring the stars.

DOWN THE WIND

Structure

30 lines · 8 stanzas