I wish that I had been awake last night When that little wind wandered to my window; But I was drowsy and it went with the light Of dawn, brushing the wet wisteria below. I am sure now that it came up from home ... Perhaps across her grave, in that tangle-garden's River-chill. It seemed that something of south-loam Was left to my nostrils; and that old grief that hardens Like hail in the heart was with me, again; The gray memory of our old meadow-fence flung A thin knife of nostalgia at my brain, And silence, as of sleeping years, stilled my tongue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN MY SHIP COMES IN by ROBERT JONES BURDETTE REPORT OF AN ADJUDGED CASE, NOT TO BE FOUND IN ANY BOOKS by WILLIAM COWPER THE CANDLE INDOORS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS JEANIE MORRISON by WILLIAM MOTHERWELL THE ORGAN GRINDER by RONALD WALKER BARR |