poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

The cold slope is standing in darkness
But the south of the trees is dry to the touch

The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers
I came to watch these
White plants older at night
The oldest
Come first to the ruins

And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon
The water flows through its
Own fingers without end

Tonight once more
I find a single prayer and it is not for men

Added: 14 Sep 2001 | Last Read: 12 Sep 2026 2:54 AM | Viewed: 6092 times

A PoetryNotes™ Analysis of December Night by W.S. Merwin, is Available!

A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.

ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!

For more information...