A Hen Was Walking On A Path Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Of dust
Roses occasional grew
Where she trod

Ah what wild country
That!
Bring me to it and build
Me a humble bungalow
And
Leave me there unnoticed to the world.

Come not, here, my friends
This be our parting
At least
This be the parting knell
In advance it will bar
Future plan given
My self suspension of Immortality

As I was walking to my
Hideaway
The place of quiet
Final permanent stay
I met the hen
Saluted spoke not
Both went their way.

My neighbor the hen is.
Uncouth shadows in the
Night
Frighten me not
For in the hen
I see a neighbor.

We speak not
Yet
Fear shuns this place
Its desolation makes
Fear, fear itself
And shy away

in the throes of night
I saw around
In the air
Floating
A thousand candle-lights
And more
I was not frightened.

Desolation goes round
Here all time
All day all night
All seasons all the skies
The ardent heavens
Silently

just a verses distant
the dust
from the country lane
is flying
I saw the old sandals
Of the old figure
Passing
Throwing off dust
For
Such the desolation
That in that plain pervades
That even this Figure rare
That had roamed astray
From other Ghosts and Shrouds
Shied before close of night all far away.