Ah! ... the lady had dropped her bright, apple-green scarf,
And it stirs like a sinuous, long snake.
Is it only that one pointed corner is lifted
By the stealthy, stealing, night wind?
Slowly, slowly ... so feebly ...
The snake lifts itself with the wind’s help,
Revealing
A little green apple,
With some black dents where strong white teeth
Have bitten it.