Enough Rope/Epitaph for a Darling Lady
Epitaph for a Darling Lady
ALL her hours were yellow sands,Blown in foolish whorls and tassels;Slipping warmly through her hands;Patted into little castles.
Shiny day on shiny dayTumble in a rainbow clutter,As she flipped them all away,Sent them spinning down the gutter.
Leave for her a red young rose,Go your way, and save your pity;She is happy, for she knowsThat her dust is very pretty.