SONNET

The reeds in Licking River all day long

Keep asking if you're ever coming back.

The marsh-hen sings a sad, bewildering song

As golden day goes blazing down to black.

These hills which knew our love one summer's space

Will never know your presence any more. These winds will never kiss your lips, your face... The water laps where willows choke the shore. You're gone, the lapwings cry. You're gone forever. I hear them-hear their poignant, lonesome call. The plum-coves miss you-they and Licking RiverBut I, being mortal, miss you most of all.

I never knew that human lives could touch As ours did, nor bereavement hurt so much.

E. V. Griffith

17