A small bird -- possibly a female robin --
Called to me that she was the legal representative
Of Sara Teasdale and that I should know
Her client had insisted that her books of poems
Include a notice that "For permission to set
Any of the poems to music, application
Should be made to the author." I said I
Had no intention of setting anyone's poems to music
Any anyway Sara Teasdale has been dead
Since 1933. The bird said "We're working on that and,
In any event, we're putting you on notice. There is
Something about your eyes we don't trust; something
That says 'I wonder what the October poem
Would sound like as a maxixe?'"
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