The Window on the Hill
by Madison CaweinAmong the fields the camomile
Seems blown mist in the lightning's glare:
Cool, rainy odors drench the air;
Night speaks above; the angry smile
Of storm within her stare.The way that I shall take to-night
Is through the wood whose branches fill
The road with double darkness, till,
Between the boughs, a window's light
Shines out upon the hill.The fence; and then the path that goes
Around a trailer-tangled rock,
Through puckered pink and hollyhock,
Unto a latch-gate's unkempt rose,
And door whereat I knock.Bright on the oldtime flower place
The lamp streams through the foggy pane;
The door is opened to the rain:
And in the door -- her happy face
And outstretched arms again.
Tuesday, November 14, 2023
Between the Boughs, a Window's Light
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