As I stood at the door
Sheltered out of the wind,
Something flew in
Which I hardly could find.
In the dim, gloomy doorway
I searched till I found
A dry withered leaf
Lying down on the ground.
With thin, pointed claws
And a dry dusty skin,,
Sure a hall is no place
For a leaf to be in!
Oh where is your tree,
And your summer and all,
Poor dusty leaf
Whistled into a hall?
The College Of Surgeons (the Rocky Road To Dublin)
James Stephens
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Poem topics: poor, summer, tree, wind, doorway, place, skin, door, gloomy, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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