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Read more poems by Dorothy Parker: Dorothy Parker Poems at Poetry X.

All her hours were yellow sands,
Blown in foolish whorls and tassels;
Slipping warmly through her hands;
Patted into little castles.

Shiny day on shiny day
Tumble in a rainbow clutter,
As she flipped them all away,
Sent them spinning down the gutter.

Leave for her a red young rose,
Go your way, and save your pity;
She is happy, for she knows
That her dust is very pretty.

Added: 25 Nov 2001 | Last Read: 30 Aug 2008 8:55 AM | Viewed: 3012 times

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