MOMENT.
He should have thought of markets and the price Of cotton cloth, of patterns, and of prints, And now and then a piece of good advice To give his nephew 7 . But the thousand tints That winter sifted from a frozen sky Caught in the frosted ice and seemed to seize His fancy like a dream. A bluejay’s cry Sounded its wild, hoarse note above the trees, And suddenly he thought that he was young; Felt books and strap and lunch beneath his arm, Saw how the withered creeper caught and hung Along the fence that bounded father’s farm. He shrugged and sighed and heard again* the note Trembling a moment in the misty air, Shaken from that too arrogant feathered throat, Making the stark grey landscape seem less bare . . . And for an instant had renounced them allHabits and axioms, for that bright bird’s call. —Eleanor Alletta Chaffee, in the New York Evening Post.
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Otago Witness, Issue 4029, 2 June 1931, Page 63
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155MOMENT. Otago Witness, Issue 4029, 2 June 1931, Page 63
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