The city sleeps; the fierce metallic roar Ebbs like a broken wave; A wave drawn back to the silent ocean-floor. The city sleeps; and the sleeper, what dreams she? She dreams Of tiny grasses, lifted and dropped and lifted, As the wind goes over the hill; Of feathery reed-tops, rising and falling and rising, As the mill-stream turns the mill. The city sleeps; and the dreamer, what dreams he? He dreams Of tender fern-fronds drooping o'er mosses cool By the cart-track's side; Of crimson seaweed rocked in the shadowy pool Where the boat-keels ride. The city sleeps; and one by one the clouds Darken the moon. The dreamers mutter and toss and softly weep; Then, cold and still, like corpses in their shrouds, They sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONGS FOR TWO SEASONS: 1. AFTER GRAVE ILLNESS by CAROL FROST ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST DOMESTIC SONG by DAVID IGNATOW FOR WALT WHITMAN by DAVID IGNATOW BRIGHTNESS AS A POIGNANT LIGHT by DAVID IGNATOW |