Simple Anna liked the words
although she didn’t understand
what many of them meant. Her man
sometimes could make them into worlds
where forests shaded green young girls.
The girls were always what she was
when what she was was what she dreamed.
By herself she never dreamed,
not any more. A woman does
such daylight things to what she is.
The words could be some country tree
and she again Anne Hathaway,
complex with what she still could be
while watching in an English shade
with all of heaven as a stage.
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