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November Night

Adelaide Crapsey
Listen. . .
With faint dry sound, 
Like steps of passing ghosts, 
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees 
And fall.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Adelaide Crapsey

by this poet

poem
Every day, 
Every day, 
Tell the hours 
By their shadows, 
By their shadows.
poem
If it 
Were lighter touch 
Than petal of flower resting 
On grass, oh still too heavy it were, 
Too heavy! 
poem
Written in a Moment of Exasperation

How can you lie so still? All day I watch 
And never a blade of all the green sod moves 
To show where restlessly you toss and turn, 
And fling a desperate arm or draw up knees 
Stiffened and aching from their long disuse; 
I watch all night and not one ghost comes