My Human Disguise.
The storm over, the rabbit’s tracks
Leave ghost faces in sifted snow.
The moon is neither old nor new,
Though enough to light the hayricks.
All white-capped, they lean, row on row,
Bowing at time’s ceremony
In welcome of the end of now —
The beginning of memory —
Like old men who left October
To youths and welcomed December.
Oh,Tomorrow! Don’t come too soon!
The night has so much dark to live
Before it’s savaged by the sun,
That jealous spoiler high above.
