If I should think upon the bashful smile
that runs into my dreams unchecked, I’d cast
my every meager thought aside and wile
away the tireless hours ‘til day has passed.
Last summer’s haze, the berries boldly blue,
the sun across his tan and aching back–
my mind could dwell on only some scenes few
even if I other mem’ries lacked.
How it has! How I’ve wallowed in his wake,
have sunk into those deep and cloudy pools.
How my thoughts have sluggish grown, how this lake
of wistfulness has my mind benumbed and fooled.
   If you should find me in this way besott,
   awake me– for lo, my love lives there not.