To maintain purity
In such a flood of love,
When humanity tends to spoil
What draws it most--
And yet, she does.

For in the cool
Of early morning
Amid the rush of cars,
The whir of boats,
The croaking of ravens--

I sense tranquility
And even the lingering
Song of isolation
Sung in the silence
Of distant western snow.

07/09/2008

Author's Note: Near Chimney Beach

Posted on 07/09/2008
Copyright © 2024 Leonard M Hawkes