Evelyn Scott

I am lost in the vast cave of night.
No sound but the far-off tinkle of stars,
And the cry of a bird
Muffled in shadows.
...

Black brooms of trees sweep the sky clean;
Sweep the house fronts,
And heave them bleak in sleep.
...

The moon is as complacent as a frog.
She sits in the sky like a blind white stone,
And does not even see Love
...

Where I used to be
I could hear the sea.
The black ragged palm fronds flung themselves against the twilight sky.
The moon stared up from the water like a fish's eye.
...

Crystal columns,
When they bend they crack;
Brittle souls,
...

Life wriggles in and out
Through the narrow ways
And circuitous passages:
...

Along the shore
A black net of branches
Tangles the pulpy yellow lamps.
The shell-colored sky is lustrous with the fading sun.
...

The thin hill pushes against the mist.
Its fading defiance sounds in the umber and red of autumn leaves.
Like a dead arm around a warm throat
Is the sagging embrace of the river
...

In the rain
Rows of street lamps are saints in bright garments
That flow long with the bend of knees.
They lift pale heads nimbussed with golden spikes.
...

From cliffs of houses,
Sunlit windows gaze down upon me
Like undeniable eyes,
Millions of bronze eyes,
...

Oh, that mysterious singing sadness of youth!
Exotic colors in the lamplit darkness of wet streets,
Musk and roses in the twilight,
The moon in the park like a golden balloon ...
...

The drift of shadows on the mountainside,
Blue and purple gold!
Purple dust sifting through fingers of ivory:
...