Collected poems, 1901-1918/The Little Salamander
MOTLEY: 1918
THE LITTLE SALAMANDER
TO MARGOT
WHEN I go free,
I think 'twill be
A night of stars and snow,
And the wild fires of frost shall light
My footsteps as I go;
Nobody — nobody will be there
With groping touch, or sight,
To see me in my bush of hair
Dance burning through the night.