Another day, another new-to-me poet (and a professional violinist!). I hope you enjoy these two beauties as much as I did.
They dip their wings in the sunset,
They dash against the air
As if to break themselves upon its stillness:
In every movement, too swift to count,
Is a revelry of indecision,
A furtive delight in trees they do not desire
And in grasses that shall not know their weight.
They hover and lean toward the meadow
With little edged cries;
As if frightened at the earth’s nearness,
They seek the high austerity of evening sky
And swirl into its depth.
And here’s another delight:
I Woke: —
Night, lingering, poured upon the world
Of drowsy hill and wood and lake
And the breeze accompanied with hushed fingers
On the birches.
Gently the dawn held out to me
A golden handful of bird’s-notes.
I missed the Roundup last week so I’m reposting to this week’s Poetry Friday Roundup, hosted by the wonderful Michelle Barnes at Today’s Little Ditty.