THERE is warm silence in a hill, Holding its arms toward wind-blown birds. When I return from hills, I feel The strange indifference of words. Hills have the tender hush that brings Geese stringing through soft porphyry. When I leave hills, I understand Why dead men dream on silently. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOVER IN HELL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET IMPELLED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON A TUFT OF GRASS by EMMA LAZARUS EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL ITALIAN PICTURES: COSTA MAGIC by MINA LOY |