Poem by Ina Donna Coolbrith

Ownership

IN a garden that I know,
Only palest blossoms blow.

There the lily, purest nun,
Hides her white face from the sun,

And the maiden rose-bud stirs
In a garment fair as hers.

One shy bird, with folded wings,
Sits within the leaves and sings;

Sits and sings the daylight long,
Just a patient plaintive song.

Other gardens greet the spring
With a blaze of blossoming;

Other song-birds, piping clear,
Chorus from the branches near:

But my blossoms, palest known,
Bloom for me and me alone;

And my bird, though sad and lonely,
Sings for me, and for me only.

1. Beside the Dead
2. At Set of Sun
3. After the Winter Rain
4. Withheld
5. At the Dawn

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