Off in the crouching mountains
Coyotes bark.
The stars are heavy in heaven,
Too great for the sky to hold—
What if they fell and shattered
The earth with gold?
No lights are over the mesa,
The wind is hard and wild,
I stand at the darkened window
And cry like a child.
DUSK IN WAR TIME
A HALF-HOUR more and you will lean
To gather me close in the old sweet way—
But oh, to the woman over the sea
Who will come at the close of day?
A half-hour more and I will hear
The key in the latch and the strong quick tread—
But oh, the woman over the sea
Waiting at dusk for one who is dead!
SPRING IN WAR TIME
I FEEL the Spring far off, far off,
The faint far scent of bud and leaf—
Oh how can Spring take heart to come
To a world in grief,
Deep grief?
The sun turns north, the days grow long,
Later the evening star grows bright—
How can the daylight linger on
For men to fight,
Still fight?
The grass is waking in the ground,
Soon it will rise and blow in waves—
How can it have the heart to sway
Over the graves,
New graves?