The pine trees patiently unstitch The brightness of this afternoon, But while they work their pungent thoughts Are longing for the dulcet moon. The pine trees only live at night When moonlight brings them silver eyes; Throughout the day they stand like blind Green beggars, uttering restless cries. At night they listen to the words Of winds from far-off mountain rims, And feel the reckless grief that springs From those who stand with prisoned limbs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIDDLER OF DOONEY by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS FATI VALET HORA BENIGNI by SAMUEL BISHOP THE OLD COUPLE by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON SECOND BOOK OF AIRS: TO HENRY, LORD CLIFFORD by THOMAS CAMPION TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. TO A FRIEND by EDWARD CARPENTER CREOLE SERENADE by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |