Why does the thin grey strand <br />Floating up from the forgotten <br />Cigarette between my fingers, <br />Why does it trouble me? <br /> <br />Ah, you will understand; <br />When I carried my mother downstairs, <br />A few times only, at the beginning <br />Of her soft-foot malady, <br /> <br />I should find, for a reprimand <br />To my gaiety, a few long grey hairs <br />On the breast of my coat; and one by one <br />I let them float up the dark chimney.<br /><br />David Herbert Lawrence<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sorrow-3/
