8:30 A. M. on 32nd Street

The wind sniffed like a happy cat
At scuttling beetle-people,
The sunshine would have roused a flat
To try and be a steeple.

My breakfast in me warm and staunch,
Your letter in my pocket,
The world’s a coon that’s climbed a branch
And I am David Crockett.

Time hoards our lives with griping care
And barren is his bursary,
But he’ll make diamonds of the air
Upon one anniversary!

Five years ago I saw you first
And knew in every part
The flagrant and immortal thirst
Love salts into the heart.

Five years ago the Pleiad crew
Sang in their starry hive,
Because a miracle like you
Could dare to be alive!

Five years, and still, through earth’s degrees
You, like a pageant, pass;
Courageous as invading seas
And careless as the grass.

Pauper poets of rimes grown thin
Mutter their madhouse wrongs.
I have aeons to love you in,
Ages to make you songs!

Pour your rain on the bitter tree!
Harrow the soil with spears!
I shall grow you Felicity,
After a million years!

The street-signs winked like smiles at me,
The wind pawed by enchanted!
The sun swung high for all to see
I’d stop him if I wanted!