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Poem by Hamlin Garland
Within my hand I hold A piece of lichen-spotted stone— Each fleck red-gold— And with closed eyes I hear the moan Of solemn winds round naked crags Of Colorado's mountains. The snow Lies deep about me. Gray and old Hags of cedars, gaunt and bare, With streaming, tangled hair, Snarl endlessly. White-winged and proud, With stately step and queenly air, A glittering, cool and silent cloud Upon me sails. The wind wails, And from the canon stern and steep I hear the furious waters leap.
Hamlin Garland's other poems:
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