ALONG the fringes of the upper lake Stark maples thicken into grey and rose, And in the hollows that the beaver knows The water-weeds turn green, and alders break Their dust-brown buds to yellow. Rushes shake Where the shy otter parts them to disclose His once familiar pathway, as he goes Across the bank, where dry twigs snap and break. In open lands, and fields a-dance with shade, Dappled in moving patterns of the sky, Dry stubble-stalks are swaying, faintly stirred By light uncertain winds; and in the glade Across a haze of sun there pulses by The steady-winging shadow of a bird. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 10 by CONRAD AIKEN THE PLACE OF PEACE by EDWIN MARKHAM IS YOUR TOWN NINEVEH? by MARIANNE MOORE RAHEL TO VARNHAGEN by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TWO SONNETS: 1 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |