On the Road in February
I THOUGHT she was a country squire's daughter: Along the leafless hedges drowned in sun, She galloped on her pony — coat undone, And hair flung up like golden flakes of water.
Frances Cornford
I THOUGHT she was a country squire's daughter: Along the leafless hedges drowned in sun, She galloped on her pony — coat undone, And hair flung up like golden flakes of water.
On a February road, the speaker catches sight of a young woman galloping past on a pony. Everything about her seems bright and free: the bare hedges are “drowned in sun,” her coat is open, and her hair streams behind her like golden water.
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