The Impulse

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Old 23-Oct-2010
The Impulse

It was too lonely for her there,
And too wild,
And since there were but two of them,
And no child,

And work was little in the house,
She was free,
And followed where he furrowed field,
Or felled tree.

She rested on a log and tossed
The fresh chips,
With a song only to herself
On her lips.

And once she went to break a bough
Of black alder.
She strayed so far she scarcely heard
When he called heró

And didnít answeródidnít speakó
Or return.
She stood, and then she ran and hid
In the fern.

He never found her, though he looked
And he asked at her motherís house
Was she there.

Sudden and swift and light as that
The ties gave,
And he learned of finalities
Besides the grave.

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