The slight chill sharpens, The air is blurred, Drugged with silence Numb with thought of the nearing winter; The afternoon loiters, lingers and dreams Dully of nothing. Through the silence Wires hum faintly; Idly heeding, the ear Reluctantly rousing, marks Far and strange in the air Blending with the wires yet separate, A larger humming. The sound of a distant plane Driving from east to west Steadily with neither swerve nor faltering Above the earth. And with it men, Unknown, invisible, Upheld securely; The air living against their faces Cold with strength, The sun still high; Men with seeking thoughts that fly ahead Outstripping the plane. The sound of the motor, Disembodied, like air itself made audible Fades to a pulse-beat, A singing in the ears, Ceases. The wires hum through the silence In the small vacuum of this close walled space; The sun sinks, The light blurs, silently darkening; In the empty air The slow chill sharpens. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HIS OWNE EPITAPH by FRANCOIS VILLON ON THE ORIGIN OF EVIL by JOHN BYROM MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER THE WELCOME by FARID OD-DIN MOHAMMAD EBN EBRAHIM ATTAR SARAH THREENEEDLES (BOSTON, 1698) by KATHARINE LEE BATES |