Collected Poems of John Holmes
Holmes, John A., Jr.
Endlessly ran and fell the waves
Under a tall wind sweeping,
And twisted trees stooped low, nor woke
From day-long silver sleeping.
Up to the lonely dunes I turned,
And the rusty beach-grass bending.
The trees were shadowy still before
The stir of long sleep ending.
Only the sun on leaves, and wind,
And line of slow gulls flying -
Then in the secret wood I heard
Somewhere a woman crying.