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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WINTER NIGHT, by GORDON DALE CLARKE
First Line: How low the white, crescent moon
Last Line: Its amazing clarity of cold.
Subject(s): Winter
First Line: How low the white, crescent moon
Last Line: Its amazing clarity of cold.
Subject(s): Winter
How low the white, crescent moon
Lies rocking, gently brooding,
Crooning in the night.
Where are the stars?
The fickle little crystals, frozen calm,
Seem to tinkle in the wind --
The gusts whip snow needles
Biting down deserted ways --
The birch skeletons crackle knotty knuckles
As they cast dancing shadows on the snow banks.
The world's a hollowed ice-drum
With echoes bounding brittle in
Its amazing clarity of cold.
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