The tree outside the window..

December 2009 - at AM Radio's build..The Quiet: Further Away and Further Apart

 

 

At once a voice arose among

The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

Of joy unlimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

Upon the growing gloom.

 

So little cause for carolings

Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestial things

Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

And I was unaware.

 

-excerpt from The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

Done