Philadelphia Poet Laureate, Frank Sherlock at Tattooed Mom

Stay Gold...

Nothing Gold Can Stay

Robert Frost, 1874 - 1963

Nature’s first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold. 
Her early leaf’s a flower; 
But only so an hour. 
Then leaf subsides to leaf. 
So Eden sank to grief, 
So dawn goes down to day. 
Nothing gold can stay. 

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