This cottage, white inside like a shell
And quiet with unheard music
Of spray and breaker,
Enshrines a happy spirit.
Eyes quick, and fingers nimble to uncover
Jewels of sun and sunset in the shingle,
Caressed these walls, these bulges
Of snowy solidity.
And here she chatters and skips still
Down the crooked stairs,
As if nothing had happened,
Always a child,
Playing at houses,
Chewing vinegar-stalks by the gate;
Her ways will never be erased
by Damaris West
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