An evening poem by H. D.

literature. writing. author.

We looked at “Oread” by H.D. on a previous post, and I really like that poem for a lot of reasons. So, here’s another poem by H.D. that I like, too, that has to do with this fine evening we are having.

“Evening” by H. D.

The light passes

from ridge to ridge,

from flower to flower—

the hepaticas, wide-spread

under the light

grow faint—

the petals reach inward,

the blue tips bend

toward the bluer heart

and the flowers are lost.

The cornel-buds are still white,

but shadows dart

from the cornel-roots—

black creeps from root to root,

each leaf

cuts another leaf on the grass,

shadow seeks shadow,

then both leaf

and leaf-shadow are lost.

Works cited