Looking for the Key
|I have been looking for this key |
For many months and I could not
But of course it was there all along.
I think that it is the thought of
Fruitcake on the sideboard,
More than chill in the air, or turning leaves.
More than Spring or Summer, certainly
More than the turn of the year,
That it is fruitcake on the sideboard
That marks the turning of my years.
Rugby and Cap’n Bor and Fred Rubbit
These were the things
That meant a new year.
And fruticake, white iced
On the white plate on the dark wood,