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On Her Veranda
                   after Yeats' Girl's Song
by Ruth Sabath Rosenthal

She rocks after dinner.
A sprinkle of snow peppers her
Hair. Inside, the dog snug
On the still-warm Eames

Shudders with Dream, & in the tub
Her prince of a husband soaks,
Swirls of pipe smoke
Crowning his damp curly mane.

She rocks & nostalgia reigns
Over night beneath moonlight.
Breathless, alit with old flame,
She hastens back

Inside & is hit with the sight
Of his majesty's limp curls
White – not that bewitching black
In the locket of this once star-struck girl.

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