To A White Silk Dress
Away from the cobwebby corner
Where it hung.
And it lay like a hurt white bird
On my bed with the pale silk coverlet___
And I cried.
What memories shake from the folds of a forgotten dress!
What pictures from a grown woman's girl-dress!
And the years between are nothing . . .
Until a voice calls.
Tenderly I close the door to my heart
And hide it farther away.
Far, far away, in the attic's dimness___with my dolls___
And all dead dreams.
Contemporary Kansas Poetry
Helen Rhoda Hoopes
(Kansas City: Joseph D. Havens Company. 1927)