The Gardener XXI: Why Did He Choose


Why did he choose to come to my
Door, the wandering youth, when the
Day dawned?
As I come in and out I pass by him
Every time, and my eyes are caught by
His face.
I know not if I should speak to him
Or keep silent. Why did he choose to
Come to my door?
The cloudy nights in July are dark;
The sky is soft blue in the autumn; the
Spring days are restless with the south
Wind.
He weaves his songs with fresh
Tunes every time.
I turn from my work and my eyes
Fill with the mist. Why did he choose
To come to my door?


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The Gardener XXI: Why Did He Choose