Against the gray of the distance, The trunks of the beeches are silver; Silver their filagree branches, Pendant and dripping with pearls -- Faint mauve pearls and soft smothered opals, Smothered in silvery mist That clings and caresses and veils them. Silver's the clear wood brook; Its slender song is silver. But under the beeches is spread A carpet of pink veined wind-flowers -- A carpet for Spring to dance on -- And out of the nearness shrills A cardinal's song -- it is scarlet! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EVERYONE KNOWS WHOM THE SAVED ENVY by JAMES GALVIN SUNSET by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRUTUS AND ANTONY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: HENRY PHIPPS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE VILLAGE ATHEIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |