Wednesday, August 18, 2010


Careless was I of the tempered wind
Of the light that the autumn seas had sent
Of the tender sod, and the flooding brook
And the growing chick in his hidden nook.
Careless was I of the bending reed
Of the creeping lynx and the cracking seed
Of the fallow deer with his hoof of bronze
And the splintered moon on the wild lawn.
Heedless to see in the splitting skies
With their lightning strikes of the cobalt eyes
And the frightened fall of the shimmering trunk
Through the streamlets dark, and the rivers drunk.
Careless was I---and I felt no peace
From the cry of wolves at the flight of geese
At the change of scent in the summer breeze
Or the flow of ferns on their amber knees.
No, I never knew, nor in knowing, cared
That the feast of snow had arrived prepared
And the season laughed at the cost of cold
From the dripping rain to the crumbling mold.

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