For Ann

 

If memory lies too hard

Against the heart

It can hurt thereafter.

 

Therefore do not be afraid

Of joy, my daughter,

And let your laughter

Sink deep beyond the reach

Of all your dreams.

 

Do not remember

The golden days,

Or hoard them up

Against what pain may come.

 

Take every hour

And throw it at the sun,

Then let it lie

Wherever it may fall.

 

April 1962