Spring Day In Kansas.
With glitter in the air that glorifies
The edge and tip of every leaf and
In pools of mirror stangeness on
Pale trees are deeply shadowed
with the look
Of rendezvous and clouds like tur-
Treasure seems probable in any
And I am not a changeling in the
My ears feel pointed, I can talk in
Today, and know what birds say in
I'll find a nest I know, here in the
And over this next hill that I shall
The lover I have waited for so long.
__from an unknown old Kansas newspaper