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
If it 
Were lighter touch 
Than petal of flower resting 
On grass, oh still too heavy it were, 
Too heavy! 
poem
I know 
Not these my hands 
And yet I think there was 
A woman like me once had hands 
Like these. 
poem
Every day, 
Every day, 
Tell the hours 
By their shadows, 
By their shadows.