SPARSE mists of moonlight hurt our eyes With gouged and scourged uncertainties Of soul and soil in agonies. One derelict grim skeleton That drench and dry had battened on Still seemed to wish us malison; Still zipped across the gouts of lead Or cracked like whipcracks overhead; The gray rags fluttered on the dead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN A MYRTLE SHADE by WILLIAM BLAKE MEN AND BOYS by KARL THEODORE KORNER EPITAPH by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE THE TOOTHPICK by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM WHEN THE FOLKS COME ALONG by FREDERICK L. ALLEN SOURCE by KENNETH SLADE ALLING SONNET ON PIETRO REGGIO HIS SETTING TO MUSIC MR. COWLEY'S POEMS by PHILIP AYRES |