Among the bumble-bees in red-top hay,
A freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
I read your heart in a book.
And your mouth of blue pansy
—I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.
And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees,
and her head held there listening to the sea,
the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.
And the blue pansy mouth sang to the sea:
"Mother of God, I’m so little a thing,
Let me sing longer,
Only a little longer."
And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.
Adelaid Crapsey by Carl Sandburg