Poem by Dorothy Parker

Story of Mrs. W----

My garden blossoms pink and white,
  A place of decorous murmuring
Where I am safe from August night
  And cannot feel the knife of spring.

And I may walk the pretty place
  Before the curtsying hollyhocks
And laundered daisies, round of face--
  Good little girls, in party frocks.

My trees are amiably arrayed
  In pattern on the dappled sky,
And I may sit in filtered shade
  And watch the tidy years go by.

And I may amble pleasantly
  And hear my neighbors list their bones
And click my tongue in sympathy,
  And count the cracks in paving stones.

My door is grave in oaken strength,
  The cool of linen calms my bed,
And there at night I stretch my length
  And envy no one but the dead.

1. Portrait of the Artist
2. Chant for Dark Hours
3. The Immortals
4. Unfortunate Coincidence
5. Inventory

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