Letter to a Young Wife

Yesterday the letter came,
it said, "The cherry blooms."
Between the lines it added,
"In our house are empty rooms."

The letter said "A pheasant came,
Its feathers were like bronze."
It whispered, too, "We miss your step
Across these April lawns."

I read, "The blackbirds gather
In the rows behind the plow."
And I wanted so to tell them
How I long to be there now.

I know that swallows fly to missions,
Daffodils return each year.
Why is it only I must leave
These things I hold so dear?