The garden of desire

by Edna Worthley Underwood

I look out toward the gray Missouri Hills.

Behold!—there Spring comes back to us again,

Upon my window beats its first wild rain

And scents of Summer now the dawn distils.

Trees, prayerful, armed, ascetic, some joy thrills.

Shining gun-metal gray the long streets stain

Where pales the passion of the first Spring rain,

Sweeping from off the gray Missouri Hills.

Adown their shimmering length looking I see

The colors as of rainbows steal softly;