G.O. WARREN

BEAUTY
G.O. WARREN

COMRADES
GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY

THE FLIGHT
GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY




HOME-BOUND
THE moon is a wavering rim where one fish
slips,

The water makes a quietness of sound;
Night is an anchoring of many ships
Home-bound.

There are strange tunnelers in the dark, and whirs
Of wings that die, and hairy spiders spin
The silence into nets, and tenanters
Move softly in.

I step on shadows riding through the grass,
And feel the night lean cool against my face;
And challenged by the sentinel of space,