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Poem by Robert Laurence Binyon


The Woods Entry


So old is the wood, so old,
Old as Fear.
Wrinkled roots; great stems; hushed leaves;
No sound near.
Shadows retreat into shadow,
Deepening, crossed.
Burning light singles a low leaf, a bough,
Far within, lost. 



Robert Laurence Binyon


Robert Laurence Binyon's other poems:
  1. The Dead to the Living
  2. Flame and Snow
  3. Now That I Have Won
  4. Inheritance
  5. The Snows of Spring


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