And I remember that this room was mine: Lamp-lit at midnight, Holding the scent of apples sharper than smoke. The moon was drawing toward eclipse, and I was waiting, And smoking was forbidden. . . . And on the wall Parted from shadow a picture of the Disciples at Emaus. Beneath the lamp lay a book, open . . . Its title, after all these years, escapes me. . . . And on the floor, other books. And the shaded light of the lamp drew everything within a circle Of which the walls were a part, and the scent of apples and smoke, And the books, and the darkness of the picture, And all this was mine. And I remember oaks that kept their leaves, That were not silent in the bitter winds, The winds that have no voice. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FEW RULES FOR BEGINNERS by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 2 by CONRAD AIKEN CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH IMAGINARY ANCESTORS: THE GIRAFFE WOMAN OF BURMA by MADELINE DEFREES WHAT THING A BIRD WOULD LOVE by ROBERT FROST |