ISSUE: Summer 1930
WE HAD no reason to go forth,
Somehow enamoured of the north,
Yet up the weedy railroad track We ransacked summer’s almanack,
Seeking a dream to fill our lack.
To left the mumbling river went Like an old negro malcontent.
Up from the bamboo brakes and bogs A mockingbird made catalogs Of all terrestrial minstrelsy And hung them on a cherry tree;
A field-lark twinkled down the sky As light as laughter in an eye.
Cool to our right the hills arose In gray sonatas of repose
And though we could not see, from where We climbed the unascending stair,
We knew that trillium was there.
Then on a certain sunny knoll We saw, inexplicably droll,
A cow and wobbly little calf,
Half head and legs the other half,
And so we couldn’t help but laugh.
And laughing took us off the rails And up some hilly woodland trails
And down again with drifting pace Into a most unearthly place
Of violets as thick as mist-Elysium gone amethyst!
So we were glad we were no older,
Going, shoulder pressed to shoulder,
Into the settling evening air,
And glad we went in silence there And were not going anywhere.
