Silk and Stones

We lived here once with doors swung wide;
But you scanned space seen but by you,
And I heard bells from chiming towers
You never saw . . . The doors swung to.

One I closed noiselessly . . . I hear
Your shrill cry yet, of nights, as we
Slammed one. All now are shut. We meet
By outside doors, where men may see:

Bright sun an us, the gala crowds,
The lovers we must make our chill
Way through; and home again we cross
Each one his separate, distant sill;

Where I hang silk and you set stones
Decked out in men and beasts half starved:
To hide closed doors . . . oh gaunt, gay things
That I have woven, you have carved.

^__Margaret E. Haughawout.

Sheep's Clothing
Margaret E. Haughawout
Page 33
(Pittsburg, Kansas: __. 1929)