A Moment
by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
The clouds had made a crimson crown
Above the mountains high.
The stormy sun was going down
In a stormy sky.
Why did you let your eyes so rest on me,
And hold your breath between?
In all the ages this can never be
As if it had not been.
Read, listen, share, create, and be on watch.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.