November Night

Adelaide Love — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 14:00:07 +0000

The wind goes keening through the dark,
Disconsolate for what is lost—
The rose, the leaf, the lyric stream
Now songless under ice and frost.

The moon, behind a sable film
Of cloud, this night looks doubly pale,
A widow who has hid her face
Behind a mourning veil.

The Saturday Evening Post, November 21, 1959

Regardless

Adelaide Love — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 14:00:51 +0000

Sleep is the ax, I’ve heard men say,
That chops one third of life away.
Well, put my third upon the block;
I need eight hours by the clock.