why
do the
fingers
of the lit
tle once beau
tiful la
dy(sitting sew
ing at an o
pen window this
fine morning)fly
instead of dancing
are they possibly
afraid that life is
running away from
them(i wonder)or
isnt't she a
ware that life(who
never grows old)
is always beau
tiful and
that nobod
y beauti
ful ev
er hur
ries