by: Karle Wilson Baker
- ome days my thoughts are just cocoons- all cold, and dull and blind,
- They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind;
- And other days they drift and shine - such free and flying things!
- I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings.
MORE POEMS BY KARLE WILSON BAKER
|"Days" is reprinted from Blue Smoke. Karle Wilson Baker. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1919.