Over the hill where all winds die.

November Dusk

Where like ghosts of verdant days
Whispering down,
Leaves in the November dusk
Drift and drown,

Stand two lovers, motionless
And apart
In their sturdy nakedness
Of the heart,

Two dark figures, side by side
Through the mist
Standing as though time had died
Since they kissed,

Whose deep roots, alive and sound
Blindly reach
Mingling in the fertile ground
Each with each--

Pray that we, when gaunt and old
Like bare trees
Through our common earth may hold
Close, like these!