A Violin at Dusk by Lizette Woodworth Reese | Poets.org

  • Sat Nov 16th, 2013 11:52pm
  • Life

A Violin at Dusk

by Lizette Woodworth Reese

Stumble to silence, all you uneasy things,

That pack the day with bluster and with fret.

For here is music at each window set;

Here is a cup which drips with all the springs

That ever bud a cowslip flower; a roof

To shelter till the argent weathers break;

A candle with enough of light to make

My courage bright against each dark reproof.

A hand’s width of clear gold, unraveled out

The rosy sky, the little moon appears;

As they were splashed upon the paling red,

Vast, blurred, the village poplars lift about.

I think of young, lost things: of lilacs; tears;

I think of an old neighbor, long since dead.

 

 

 

About This Poem

Lizette Woodworth Reese’s poetry often evokes images of her rural childhood. This imagery along with her condensed form and colloquial language influenced younger poets, including Edna St. Vincent Millay and Louise Bogan.