In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other's arms, seem still so that squirrels and colored birds go about at ease over the branches and through the air. Where will a shoulder split or a forehead open and victory be? Nowhere. Both sides grow older. And you may be sure not one leaf will lift itself from the ground and become fast to a twig again. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THREE SONNETS by RICHARD WILBUR THE PLACE OF PEACE by EDWIN MARKHAM ON A LADY SINGING by ISAAC ROSENBERG |