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Karle Wilson Baker was an American poet and author.
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Karle Wilson Baker's poems
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The flame of my life burns low
Under the cluttered days,
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I was The Gateway. Here they came, and passed,
The homespun centaurs with their arms of steel
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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;
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From garden-beds I tend, it is not far
To those great ranges where he used to ride;
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I have worn this day as a fretting, ill-made garment,
Impatient to be rid of it.
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Dropp'd feather from the wings of God
My little songs and snatches are,
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To-day I have grown taller from walking with the trees,
The seven sister-poplars who go softly in a line;
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The redbird is the core of fire at the heart of by still living;
And his little lady is the soft ashes covering the half-seen embers."
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My little daughter is a tea-rose,
Satin to the touch,
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