 | Poems by a Little Girl |  |
NIGHT GOES RUSHING BY
NIGHT goes hurrying overLike sweeping clouds;
The birds are nested; their song is silent.
The wind says oo — oo — oo — through the trees
For their lullaby.
The moon shines down on the sleeping birds.
My cottage roof is like a sheet of silk
Spun like a cobweb.
My apple-trees are bare as the oaks in the forest;
When the moon shines
I see no leaves.
I am alone and very quiet
Hoping the moon may say something
Before long.
| Poems by a Little Girl | |