A photo from a friend,
three yards of cotton jersey beckoning to become something,
have somehow become the beginnings of a dress.
Lo! the most excellent sun, so calm and haughty;
The violet and purple morn, with just-felt breezes;
The gentle, soft-born, measureless light;
The miracle, spreading, bathing all—the fulfill’d noon;
The coming eve, delicious—the welcome night, and the stars,
Over my cities shining all, enveloping man and land.
"When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom'd"