Late Autumn Afternoon

Grey, fingered with flickering threads
           of light; 
Silence broken by restless quavers
           of music. 
Greyness, music, 
A playing thought of slumber. 
And on my lips faintly disturbing fingers, 
And at my heart love’s hand like a 
           child’s hand
Stirring me half awake. 

From On a Grey Thread (Will Ransom, 1923) by Elsa Gidlow. This poem is in the public domain.