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December Night

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

W.S. Merwin

Read poems about / on: moon, water, night, tree

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Hannah Mcgill (12/27/2007 8:08:00 AM)
This is a very beautiful poem. I love how it paints a picture in you head.

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7/24/2008 5:17:15 AM. You Are Here: December Night by W.S. Merwin