sukenick-digressions

Nature’s dark side is heeded now—

    (Ah! optimist-cheer disheartened flown)—

  A child may read the moody brow

    Of yon black mountain lone.

  With shouts the torrents down the gorges go,

  And storms are formed behind the storm we feel:

The hemlock shakes in the rafter, the oak in the driving keel.