Harriet Monroe

From “Carolina Wood-cuts”

I HEAR a thousand thousand tremors

Of clear water

Falling lacily in the sun.

I hear one, two—seven shivers

Of deep bells

Ringing under the sea.

I hear a chiming of soldiers in bright armor

Riding up a hill—

Oh, far away, far away!

I hear sweet words, silver words,

Musically clashing down

From the tune-locked lips of lovers

Up in Heaven.

I hear…..

Is it you, brown bird?