Mannequins in Nan Duskin’s Window

Golden lady in the window,
With your eyes of sunken pearl,
Ever waking, ever sleeping,
Ever woman, ever girl,
You are calm amid the dusty
City winds that creep and curl;
Silent sister, calmly spinning
Threads of time without a burl.

Lovely lady at the window,
Infant once and growing old,
You are lithe, but you are forty:
Do you wish your limbs were gold?
For the wind that swirls around you
Is a strange wind and a cold:
Do you fear that it is taking
Ends of threads you cannot hold?

Silent lady at the window,
Do you wish for once to know
Ages free of joyous comings
And the hell of joys that go?
In the land of golden ladies,
Dusty winds will never blow,
But the wine is colored water,
And the flowers never grow.

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