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