FROM ABOVE

By Cale Young Rice

What do I care if the trees are bare

And the hills are dark

And the skies are gray.

What do I care for chill in the air

For crows that cark

At the rough wind's way.

What do I care for the dead leaves there —

Or the sullen road

By the sullen wood.

There's heart in my heart

To bear my load!

So enough, the day is good!