Communion

Beauty lies so deep
On all the fields,
Nothing for the eyes
But blessing yields.

Tall elms, greedy of light,
Stand tip-toe. See
The last light linger in
Their tracery.

The guns are dumb, are still
All evil noises.
The singing heart in peace
Softly rejoices,

Only unsatisfied
With Beauty’s hunger
And sacramental thirst--
Nothing of anger.

Mist wraiths haunt the path
As daylight lessens,
The stars grow clearer, and
My dead friend’s presence.