The tumble-weeds whirl happily and spin When the fanfares of the desert winds begin; Dancing gaily over muted miles, Moving where the whistling goatherd whiles Away the hours behind his huddled herds, On they twirl, in fancy following birds; But for trembling seconds do they rest When winds abate with one long conscious breath. Now, on a sand-spume wave, poised dizzily, A lark sings lustily in fearless glee, Before his journey to some further place Upon the desert's scarred and time-worn face. A whippoorwill flies far across the plain To bid the tumble-weeds dance on again; But tired, they seek a sandy sunburnt bed To hear the night owl flying overhead, Crooning his dull and meaningless refrain To the sudden drumming of the rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DREAM OF JULIUS CAESAR by ROBERT FROST STORIES ARE MADE OF MISTAKES by JAMES GALVIN HOMING BRAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: OSCAR HUMMEL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS YOU SAY YOU SAID by MARIANNE MOORE THE STORY OF THE ASHES AND THE FLAME by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |