Edith Wyatt

IF you could have a perfect day

To dream of when your life were done,

Would you choose one all clear, all gay—

If you could have a perfect day—

The airs above the wide green way

Sheer virgin blue with crystal sun?—

If you could have a perfect day

To dream of when your life were done.

Or would you have it April’s way,

Haphazard rain, haphazard sun,

Divine and sordid, clear and gray,

Dyed like these hours’ own work and play;

All shot with stains of tears and clay,

Haphazard pain, haphazard fun—

If you could have a perfect day

To dream of when your life were done?