Archive for November 6th, 2017

Monday, 6 November 2017

A Mother Walks in Her Garden: 1917 by Blanche Allyn Bane Kuder

The clipped hedge and the hollyhocks,
The pungent borders of the box,
The stretch of meadow, green and wide,
Somewhere in France a boy has died.

That I may walk in my garden dim,
His clean young soul is gone from him,
That I may loiter in sun-drenched dreams,
Over his head the wild shell screams.

The apricots by the southern wall,
The purple heaps where the ripe plums fall,
The fringed grass by the sunk pool’s side,
Somewhere in France a boy has died.

That I may gather of fruit and bloom
His be the pain and rack and doom,
The ashen face and the tortured limb,
And mine own son may follow him!

From: Kuder, Blanche Bane, April Weather, 1922, The Cornhill Publishing Co: Boston & New York, p. 14.
(https://archive.org/details/aprilweather00kudeiala)

Date: 1922

By: Blanche Allyn Bane Kuder (1882-1959)