POETRY.
A LONELY PLACE: Tae leafless trees, the untidy stack, , Last rainy summer raised in haite, Watch the sky turn from fair to black, And watch the river 1111 and waste.
But never a footstep comes to trouble The seagulls in the new-sown corn, Or pigeons rising from late stubble, And flashing lighter as they turn.
Or if a footstep comes 'tis mine, Sharp on the road or soft on grass Silence .divides along my line, And closes behind mo as I pass.
No other comes, no labourer
To cut his shaggy truss of hay, -Upon the road no traveller,
Day after day, day after day.
And even I, when I come here,
Move softly on, subdued and still, Lonely as death, though I can hear
Mon shouting on the other hill.
Day after day, though no one sees, The lonely place no different seems, Tho trees, the stack still images Constant. in who can say whoao dreams ?
Bo assao SHAME
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