background image
We two at our reading this evening
making a busy stillness in the room
when the singing of a mockingbird
came fresh and loud
straight into my ear
from the long empty, black
cave-mouth of -- the cold dark lung
of the fi replace, beside my chair.
end of september
However it may be with me
Lying wakeful in the old bed
This night is cool, fresh, quiet,
Moon-blanched, a few late season crickets
Trill under the oaks across the road,
Some of the moonlight, coming through
The pine tree by the window,
Burns like lumps of phosphorus, on the bedclothes.
reader listening
Rain now with dark coming on
after the chill clear day, and it makes
coming against the roof a roof of sound.
Many mild little comments,
with the occasional loud drop,
the faint ones, the pitch
diff erences, the many drops striking
at almost the same time, the
individual sounds still audible
in the general run of sound as the rain
comes down heavier, loudening