V. The Sun Just Touched the Morning


The sun just touched the morning;
The morning, happy thing,
Supposed that he would leave soon
And this was just a fling.

She felt herself supremer,—
A raised, ethereal thing;
Henceforth she would ignore him
Like a haughty queen.

Meanwhile, the sun got dressed
And offered to cook some eggs,
But she spoke not a word to him
And covered up her legs.

Once he left, the morning staggered,
Felt feebly for her crown,—
Her absolutely pounding forehead
Henceforth her only one.


The sanitized version. The well-punctuated version with interpretation.

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