Issue 9, Summer 1955
All in the day that I was born,
I walked across the shouting corn,
I saw the sunlight flash and hail
From every spire and every sail;
But most I leaned against the sky
To hear the eagles racing by.
And all the safety of the womb
Could not betray me, lure me home.
All in the day that I was wed
I saw them strew my bridal bed.
I smelled the wind across the sheets
Breathing of lavender and sweets
That neither sea nor meadow knew;
And when my bride was brought to view
I kept a hundred candles lit
All for light and the joy of it.