American poet (1878-1960)
God hangs my slatted cage, sometimes
On Skyey balconies of bloom;
He lifts my latch, some rainy days,
And lets me hop about His room;
But when, at last, He thinks it time
To tell me what the Others know,
He'll lift the window toward the hills
And let me go.
KARLE WILSON BAKER
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"The Window", Burning Bush
The yoke of beauty is easy to bear
Since I need not lay it down.
KARLE WILSON BAKER
"The Marching Mountains", Burning Bush
My years have limped; but I
Have tried so hard to fly!
And now, suppose Death brings
Gulls' wings
At last, for me to keep?
KARLE WILSON BAKER
"Alternatives", Burning Bush