At the Window

The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter;
While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters.

Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede,
Winding about their dimness the mist’s grey cerements, after
The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed.

The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass
To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes
That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.

Similar poems:

The Window She looks out in the blue morning And sees a whole wonderful world She looks out in the morning And...

The House Of Dust: Part 01: 02: One, from his high bright window in a tower One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of...

I Sit By The Window I said fate plays a game without a score, And who needs fish if you’ve got caviar? The triumph of...

The Window All night long, by a distant bell, The passing hours were notched On the dark, while her breathing rose and...

By my Window have I for Scenery By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea with a Stem If the Bird and the Farmer deem...

A London Thoroughfare. 2 A. M They have watered the street, It shines in the glare of lamps, Cold, white lamps, And lies Like a slow-moving...

At The Window Every morning, as I walk down From my dreary lodgings, toward the town, I see at a window, near the...

This Window is This window is confidence, Documenting proceedings, Capturing moments, Cleansing views Challenging sentiment. This window is nourishment Filling the eyes With...

Wind and Window Flower LOVERS, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze....

Bavarian Gentians Not every man has gentians in his house In Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas. Bavarian gentians, big and dark,...

Morning at the Window THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens, And along the trampled edges of the street I am aware of...

Tree At My Window Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain...

Lean Out of the Window Lean out of the window, Goldenhair, I hear you singing A merry air. My book was closed, I read no...

A Day Like Any Other Such insignificance: a glance At your record on the doctor’s desk Or a letter not meant for you. How could...

At a Window Give me hunger, O you gods that sit and give The world its orders. Give me hunger, pain and want,...

Brooding Grief A yellow leaf from the darkness Hops like a frog before me. Why should I start and stand still? I...

The House Of Dust: Part 03: 09: Cabaret We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) ‘this night is passing As...

The Window In the sweet, Atlantic Breathing of spring My curtain’s like a butterfly, Huge, fluttering Like a Hindu widow To a...

Voices at the Window Who is it that, this dark night, Underneath my window plaineth? It is one who from thy sight Being, ah,...

The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07: Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out. . . The yellow windows darken, the...