A flight of geese passed by in a narrow V , Honking their cry. That cry was stuck in her heart Like a bright knife. She could have laughed or wept Because of that cry flung down from a moving wing, But she stood silent. She had touched the life in the ground.

Love came by from the riversmoke, When the leaves were fresh on the tree, But I cut my heart on the blackjack oak Before they fell on me.

The leaves are green in the early Spring, They are brown as linsey now, I did not ask for a wedding-ring From the wind in the bending bough.