Pine Cone By Hilda Conkling

Pine cone is a brown girl
From Kentucky.
By a gleaming lake she stands
Like a lady in front of a mirror
Admiring her dress.
I often see her brown curls ruffled out . . .
I see her dimples . . .
I hear the grass and the dew play music to her . . .
But what made me think of her today
I’ll never know.