Snow By Morning

Some for everyone,
plenty, and more coming-

fresh, dainty, airily arriving
everywhere at once,

transparent at first,
each faint slice-
slow, soundlessly tumbling;

then quickly, thickly. a gracious fleece
will spread like youth, like wheat,
over the city.

Each building will be a hill,
all sharps made round-

dark, worn, noisy narrows made still
wide, flat, clean spaces;

streets will be fields,
cars fumbling sheep;

a deep, bright harvest will be seeded
in a night.

By morning we’ll be children
feeding on manna,
a new loaf on every doorsill.

May Swenson
Alumna ’34


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