Poem - III
Through the dark aisles of the wood
Where the pine-needles deaden all sound
And the dove flutters in the black boughs
Through twilit vaults of the forest
Where fungus stifles the roots
And the squirrel escapes with a cone
Through the dim alleys of pine
Where the bent stick moves like a snake
And the badger sniffs at the moon
Through the green graveyard of leaves
Where the stoat rehearses his kill
And the white skull grins in the fern.
poem by Henry Treece
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Also see the following:
- quotes about squirrels
- quotes about tomb
- quotes about green
- quotes about sound
- quotes about Moon
- quotes about black
- quotes about white
- quotes about peace
No comments until now.