D.H. Lawrence (1885–1930). Amores. 1916.
31. Sorrow
W
Floating up from the forgotten
Cigarette between my fingers,
Why does it trouble me?
When I carried my mother downstairs,
A few times only, at the beginning
Of her soft-foot malady,
To my gaiety, a few long grey hairs
On the breast of my coat; and one by one
I let them float up the dark chimney.