Get Your Premium Membership

At the Window

 The pine-trees bend to listen to the autumn wind as it mutters 
Something which sets the black poplars ashake with hysterical laughter; 
While slowly the house of day is closing its eastern shutters.
Further down the valley the clustered tombstones recede, Winding about their dimness the mist’s grey cerements, after The street lamps in the darkness have suddenly started to bleed.
The leaves fly over the window and utter a word as they pass To the face that leans from the darkness, intent, with two dark-filled eyes That watch for ever earnestly from behind the window glass.

Poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - At the WindowEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

More Poems by David Herbert Lawrence

Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on At the Window

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem At the Window here.