I feel the breath of the summer night,
The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir
With tender desire.
The white moths flutter about the lamp,
Enamoured with light;
And a thousand creates softly sing
A song to the night!
But I am alone, and how can I sing
Praises to thee?
Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul
That waiteth for me.
This poem appeared in Poems (Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 1895). It is in the public domain.
Copyright © 2017 by Catherine Barnett. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 16, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.
there are the stars
and the sickle stare
of the moon
there are the frogs
dancing in the joy
of the ditch and the crickets
there are the trees
and the huge shadow
of the wind whispering
the old hymns of my childhood
and of course, there are the stars again.
winking at me like a curious woman.
i am learning to breathe.
From A Jury of Trees (Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe and Letras Latinas, 2017). Copyright © 2017 by Andrés Montoya. Used with the permission of Bilingual Press/Editorial Bilingüe.