...it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there...

August 03, 2005

Wednesday Is Poetry Day: Hardy

An August night and bugs. Sounds like Sacramento to me.

An August Midnight


A shaded lamp and a waving blind,
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor:
On this scene enter — winged, horned, and spined —
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore;
While 'mid my page there idly stands
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands . . .


Thus meet we five, in this still place,
At this point of time, at this point in space.
- My guests besmear my new-penned line,
Or bang at the lamp and fall supine.
"God's humblest, they!" I muse. Yet why?
They know Earth-secrets that know not I.

By Thomas Hardy.

Posted by annika, Aug. 3, 2005 | TrackBack (0)
Rubric: Poetry



Posted by: d-rod on Aug. 4, 2005