I LOVE a hill that crouches still All day -- more patient than a wife Grown big with child. There is no strife Within the soul of any hill. Soft gray draws round it as a shawl And shadow wind comes close to steal A moment's calm. The dusk birds feel The sacristan's repose, the fall Of mist-gray raiment clean and thin ... I have been tracked by memory ... This fevered ocean maddens me. I want hill-raiment near my skin! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest... |