Hazel Hall

The Long Day

I am sewing out my sorrow,
Like a thread, wearing it thin;
It will be old and frayed to-morrow.
Needle, turn out; needle, turn in.

Sorrow’s thread is a long thread.
Needle, one stitch; needle, two.
And sorrow’s thread is a strong thread,
But I will wear it through.

Then not only will sorrow
Be old and thin and frayed;
But I shall have to-morrow
Something sorrow has made.