And the farmhouse miles away,
Showed clear as though behind a lens
Under a sky of peacock blue!
But a blanket of cloud by afternoon
Muffled the earth. And you walked the road
And the clover field, where the only sound
Was the cricket's liquid tremolo.
Then the sun went down between great drifts
Of distant storms. For a rising wind
Swept clean the sky and blew the flames
Of the unprotected stars
And swayed the russet moon,
Hanging between the rim of the hill
And the twinkling boughs of the apple orchard.
- from Charles Webster by Edgar Lee Masters
Read the entire poem.
I've quoted Masters once before: Poetry Friday: Alexander Throckmorton by Edgar Lee Masters
View all posts tagged as Poetry Friday at Bildungsroman.
Consult the Poetry Friday roundup schedule at Big A little a.
Learn more about Poetry Friday.