 | New poems by Madison Cawein |  |
110
AFTER AUTUMN RAIN
The hillside smokes
With trailing mist around the rosy oaks;
With trailing mist around the rosy oaks;
While sunset builds
A gorgeous Asia in the west she gilds.
A gorgeous Asia in the west she gilds.
Auroral streaks
Sword through the heavens' Himalayan peaks:
Sword through the heavens' Himalayan peaks:
In which, behold,
Burn mines of Indian ruby and of gold.
Burn mines of Indian ruby and of gold.
A moment—and
A shadow stalks between it and the land.
A shadow stalks between it and the land.
A mist, a breath,
A premonition, with the face of death,
A premonition, with the face of death,
111
Turning to frost
The air it breathes, like some invisible ghost.
The air it breathes, like some invisible ghost.
Then, wild of hair,
Demons seem streaming to their fiery lair:
Demons seem streaming to their fiery lair:
A chasm, the same
That splits the clouds' face with a leer of flame.
That splits the clouds' face with a leer of flame.
The wind comes up
And fills the hollow land as wine a cup.
And fills the hollow land as wine a cup.
Around and round
It skips the dead leaves o'er the forest's ground.
It skips the dead leaves o'er the forest's ground.
A myriad fays
And imps seem dancing down the withered ways.
And imps seem dancing down the withered ways.
And far and near
It makes of every bush a whisperer;
It makes of every bush a whisperer;
112
Telling dark tales
Of things that happened in the ghostly vales:
Of things that happened in the ghostly vales:
Of things the fox
Barks at and sees among the haunted rocks:
Barks at and sees among the haunted rocks:
At which the owl
Hoots, and the wolf-hound cringes with a growl.
Hoots, and the wolf-hound cringes with a growl.
Now on the road
It walks like feet too weary for their load.
It walks like feet too weary for their load.
Shuffling the leaves,
With stormy sighs, onward it plods and heaves;
With stormy sighs, onward it plods and heaves;
Till in the hills
Among the red death there itself it kills.
Among the red death there itself it kills.
And with its death
Earth, so its seems, draws in a mighty breath.
Earth, so its seems, draws in a mighty breath.
113
And,—like a clown
Who wanders lost upon a haunted down,
Who wanders lost upon a haunted down,
Turns towards the east,
Fearful of coming goblin or of beast,
Fearful of coming goblin or of beast,
And sees a light,—
The jack-o'-lantern moon,—glow into sight.
The jack-o'-lantern moon,—glow into sight.
| New poems by Madison Cawein | |