To Arthur Edmonds

Geranium, houseleek, laid in oblong beds

On the trim grass. The daisies’ leprous stain

Is fresh. Each night the daisies burst again,

Though every day the gardener crops their heads.

A wistful child, in foul unwholesome shreds,

Recalls some legend of a daisy chain

That makes a pretty necklace. She would fain

Make one, and wear it, if she had some threads.

Sun, leprous flowers, foul child. The asphalt burns.

The garrulous sparrows perch on metal Burns.

Sing! Sing! they say, and flutter with their wings.

He does not sing, he only wonders why

He is sitting there. The sparrows sing. And I