Grace Fallow Norton

SHY perfect pearl-white flower, blooming alone

In northern woods where snow has sown

Its myriad seed—shy perfect flower,

Fragrant, alone—

Your dark leaves cluster close to hide you the more.

I part them and remember bright poppies on the plain.

They run in the wind, a ragged gypsy train;

They fling themselves at the feet of the golden grain—

When it is slain they too are slain.

Their life is a cry! Their life is a sudden scarlet stain!

Their dream-dark seeds have fearful power.

And you, shy perfect pearl-white flower?