"The Poet's Corner..."

"Sonnet To The Moon"

Now every leaf, though colorless, burns bright 

With disembodied and celestial light, 

And drops without a movement or a sound 

A pillar of darkness to the shifting ground.

The lucent, thin, and alcoholic flame 

Runs in the stubble with a nervous aim, 

But, when the eye pursues, will point with fire 

Each single stubble-tip and strain no higher.

O triple goddess! Contemplate my plight! 

Opacity, my fate! Change, my delight! 

The yellow tom-cat, sunk in shifting fur, 

Changes and dreams, a phosphorescent blur.

Sullen I wait, but still the vision shun. 

Bodiless thoughts and thoughtless bodies run.

Yvor Winters