The Truth about the Dew

Maybe she dreamed the colonnade:

But surely, surely, she has seen

Magnolias drenched in moonlit shade.

Maria sees the dew as green.

Burdened Calinda totes the sun

Bundle-headed to her shack;

Her arms are black in unison,

Her shoulders bare. Here dew is black.

But Abner hoeing hillside corn

Swipes his lean hair to clear his sight.

The sun is hilled. He could have sworn

Dew on the long corn-leaves was white.

This morning, however, a small

Lascivious rabbit, looking through

A cobweb, frightened and let fall

Millions of rainbows from the dew.

Fohn Peale Bishop