This Summer Morning Mariana Has

Mariana, with the morning so,
Walking one morning up a road near woods,
With the sun young that morning,
And the dew not long gone from grass and roses;
violets still were wet; the moon had not so long
gone; Mariana had not long awakened;
Mariana, with the sun growing hotter, going west,
coming nearer to Mariana,
Mariana, going up a road near woods, thinking of
Thursdays and gone nights and coming nights,
Mariana, sweetly crushing twigs on a road, twigs
there somehow.
Mariana, grasping at some leaves of a nearby tree.
Mariana, thinking of Thursdays.
Mariana, scaring a butterfly; Mariana, scaring
little living things in warm flowers.
Mariana, living through a morning near woods.
Mariana's dress touching at times tall grass green
in fields.
Mariana, seen by a bird.
Mariana, touched by a slow wind.
Mariana, coming nearer to woods.
Mariana, moving little stones in the road; Mariana,
covering with her slippers, Mariana covering little
stones in the road.
Mariana, seeing a rose.
Mariana, in woods.
The woods have Mariana.
Mariana has woods.
A leaf falls on Mariana's hair; the leaf falls down from
Mariana's hair, down her face, down her neck; she
walks; the leaf falls down over her dress, touching
her dress, and falls down in grass; Mariana walks on
in woods.
All in Mariana's morning.
This morning Mariana has.
This morning, on road and in woods, in summer, under
summer, morning sun, Mariana, Mariana has.