Everyday Alchemy by Genevieve Taggard

Everyday Alchemy

by Genevieve Taggard

Men go to women mutely for their peace;

And they, who lack it most, create it when

They make – because they must, loving their men –

A solace for sad bosom-bended heads. There

Is all the meager peace men get – no otherwhere;

No mountain space, no tree with placid leaves,

Or heavy gloom beneath a young girl's hair,

No sound of valley bell on autumn air,

Or room made home with doves along the eves,

Ever holds peace like this, poured by poor women

Out of their heart's poverty, for worn men.