Days – Karle Wilson Baker

Some days my thoughts are just cocoons- all cold, and dull and blind,
They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind;

And other days they drift and shine – such free and flying things!
I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings.

Blue Smoke – Karle Wilson Baker

The flame of my life burns low
Under the cluttered days,
Like a fire of leaves.
But always a little blue, sweet-smelling smoke
Goes up to God.