An Autumn Love Cycle/Recessional

by Georgia Douglas Camp Johnson

Recessional

Consider me a memory—a dreamThat passed away,Or yet, a flower that has blown and shattered—In a day;For passion sleeps, alas, and keeps no vigilWith the years,And wakens to no conjuringOf orison or tears.

Consider me a melodyThat served its simple turn,Or but the residue of fireThat settles in the urn,For love defies pure reasoningAnd undeterred flowsWithin—withoutThe vassal heart!Its reasoning—Who knows?