Parting with the day

the muffled

ruffling

of my birds

in that tree

soft bells ring

they toll

invisibly

there is a herd

landscape

turf

heaping

in the hamlet

stillness

droning

flight

reigns over

thee

intimate harvest

yellow

green

and red

disdainful smiles

all in beauty

fill our heads

it is animated

and fleeting

gritting babies

teething

glorious empires unfolding

in the gentlest of rage

in spiteful reverence for this

oft

enchanted

land

learned

ignoble

strivings

chisel sculptures

in secret shame

the soul is our

own prey

in

elegy

a

moralist’s

sigh

covered in a red

vale

inquire into the spirit

of nature

within

they nod

beneath

us

in forlorn

hapless love

patiently

keen

sovereign