A Ballad of Orchard Evening
Out in an orchard eveningThey walked without a word,And apple buds in moonlightAbove them swelled and stirred.
Out in an orchard eveningThey walked through apple bowersAnd on them fell the honeyOf gently swaying flowers.
Now back from orchard eveningThey come without a word,But deadly hangs the silenceBetween them like a sword,
And lips that kiss at partingAre now a hail-hard showerTo bruise and shred and mangleThe remnants of a flower.
From The Haloed Tree. Reprinted with permission of Kathleen Forsythe, Cogswell's literary executor. Back to Selected Poems