Indian Summer
In that day Everyone will sing, Everyone will play in that day ; There will be carolling. You will make poems for your neighbor's child ; Woods will grow wild.
In that day Men will not pray, Men's hearts will never know Struggle and woe.
Lovers will be Simple and free; On warm fall nights, men's sweethearts will conceive.
No one will grieve, No one grow gray; Feet will not go Wandering, in that day, Save on one quest Older than they : Across one threshold — an unbidden guest.
Genevieve Taggard