As, after frost, men rake the darkening mold And burn in piles the leaves that lately wore Green summer's jade and fall's Etruscan gold -- Now whitening ashes on an earthen floor -- So do we burn our letters, sheaves that hold Dreams of a whole life's visioning, now no more Than empty shells or vacant rooms all cold, Their creaking hinges rusting from each door. What if the spectrum flame of lavish days Has turned to tender browns and quiet grays, What if the song of life and love's refrain Has lost its lilt in struggle with life's pain, What if both leaves and letters drift in smoke -- Spring knew the lips of April -- Love once spoke! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SACRAL DREAMS OF RAMON FERNANDEZ by JAMES GALVIN THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE by JAMES GALVIN WINTER GARDEN THEATRE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS YOU SAY YOU SAID by MARIANNE MOORE AN ISLAND (SAINT HELENA, 1821) by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON TONE PICTURE (MALIPIERO: IMPRESSONI DAL VERO) by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER |