EVERY branch big with it, Bent every twig with it; Every fork like a white web-foot; Every street and pavement mute: Some flakes have lost their way, and grope back upward, when Meeting those meandering down they turn and descend again. The palings are glued together like a wall, And there is no waft of wind with the fleecy fall. A sparrow enters the tree, Whereon immediately A snow-lump thrice his own slight size Descends on him and showers his head and eyes, And overturns him, And near inurns him, And lights on a nether twig, when its brush Starts off a volley of other lodging lumps with a rush. The steps are a blanched slope, Up which, with feeble hope, A black cat comes, wide-eyed and thin; And we take him in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN THE QUANGLE WANGLE'S HAT by EDWARD LEAR TACT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON PROMETHEUS BOUND: PROMETHEUS by AESCHYLUS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 9. LOVE A TICKLISH GAME by PHILIP AYRES COMPLAINS OF THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE; AN IDYLLIUM by BION A HOP AT SARATOGA by LEVI BISHOP |