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WALKING ON A HOARY TWILIGHT


A freezing hoary twilight moment
In copses for nature’s decent
I am preceding verdict my way
To reach home now, not in May;

I have a colleague a fatigued one,
Not rambling in addition, no volition.
A stony gust was blowing I know
Over the lawns concealed by snow;

Copses are dark, the wolves bark
Filled with snow, the tranquil park
The whooshing sound of the wind,
A silvery concourse at the end;

The boulevards light were lighted,
The lengthy dangled wires tightened
To my carillon, I ought to come
To have syrupy hot tea of my mom;

To my chimes I have to come
Before sleep to have safe home;

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