November Dusk
November Dusk by Ethel Romig Fuller
All day long the clouds hung low
As if they were weighted down by snow.
There was no sound of beast or bird;
No crisp leaf, no cornstalk stirred.
Ruts and stubble were embossed,
Lichen-fashion, by hoarfrost.
As dusk closed in a little more
Dun than day had been before,
The west sky opened just a chink,
Releasing one wan streak of pink
Which radiated thru the gloom
Like candlelight in a shadowed room;
The flickered out. A lone dog's bark
Ushered in a starless night.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
A few different things happened this week that made me stop and really think about what lies ahead. I am not predicting the long future h...
-
Saturday: It rained and rained last night. However, that rain kept the weather fairly mild, and we slept very comfortably without any he...
-
Proverbs 31: 27 She looks well to the ways of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Tsade (tsah-dee) is the eighte...
No comments:
Post a Comment