~ An Ordinary Girl's Reflection ~

            There's honey‐top, and carrot‐top,
            And raven‐locked girls,
            And grey hair like silver,
            And white hair like pearls.
            
            But if I had a sweetheart
            (Of which, so far, I'm free),
            What would he say brown hair is like
            In whisperings to me?
            
            I'd want him to say
            That it is like trees:
            Trees that are humble to let go of yesterday,
            And that dance to the music of the spheres.
            
            Or perhaps he would muse
            That is is the color of winter's leaves,
            Speaking to the jaded wind
            Their faith that spring is near.
            
            Or yet, I would like to hear
            That it reminds him
            Of the wondrously unjust earth,
            That takes the hammering sun
            And the spearing rain
            And the hollow ghost seeds of last autumn,
            And gives back only — 
            Life.
            
            And as he whispered these flatteries to me,
            He would press my brown hair to his cheek
            As dearly
            As if it were gold, or fire, or night,
            Or storm‐lit sea, or snow.
            ~ Mae Govannen