Emily

She had a garden full of herbs. And many another pleasant thing. Like pink round asters in the fall. Blue flags, white flags a week in spring.

Housewives ran in each hour or so. For sprigs of thyme, mint, parsley too; For pans to borrow, or some meal; She was the kindest thing they knew.

Tall, and half slender, slightly grey. With gay, thin lips, eyes flower-clear. She bragged her stock was Puritan; Her usual mood was Cavalier.

Ample of deed; clipped, warm of speech. Each day in some large-flowered gown. She went the rounds to sad, to sick Saint, humorist to the faded town.

She died at sixty. For a while They missed her in each intimate spot — Tall, and half slender, slightly grey — They ate, drank, slept, and quite forgot.