All her hours were yellow sands, <br />Blown in foolish whorls and tassels; <br />Slipping warmly through her hands; <br />Patted into little castles. <br /> <br />Shiny day on shiny day <br />Tumble in a rainbow clutter, <br />As she flipped them all away, <br />Sent them spinning down the gutter. <br /> <br />Leave for her a red young rose, <br />Go your way, and save your pity; <br />She is happy, for she knows <br />That her dust is very pretty.<br /><br />Dorothy Parker<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/epitaph-for-a-darling-lady/
