To The Daughter Of A Stranger On The Eve Of Her Fifteenth Birthday

To The Daughter Of A Stranger On The Eve Of Her Fourteenth Birthday

Like the last day of your fourteenth year which freaks your mother somewhat out

So the last days of your youth — only not so clear defined

An annoying creeping worry of which you are sure you’d rather doubt

Than hear; it combs for clues anon with but the finely toothed kind

But surely you have worlds enough and time, this  must needs be premature

Come now, you don’t need to think of your time as flying by just yet

Kicking around on a piece of ground is of course still — de rigueur

(Though your Sugar Mountain lacks no first to meet those People that you met)

If from a weird old twitter lady you would accept opinions sometime rank

One who knows she knows you not, who only saw your likeness then and now

Comes counsel that you of yourself keep record— your Diaries money in the bank

Not so much of where or when or who; the Future wonders why and how

To remind your now these questions I your mother’s ear & yours have bent

I leave to you the disposition of your own To-What-Extent

4