Poems (Scudder)/Sunset on the Marshes
SUNSET ON THE MARSHES
No wind bends the yellowing grasses,
But the small pools glitter and tremble
As though the marsh-queen had broken her necklace
Scattering far and wide
Its garnets and spinel-rubies.
Barbaric in color the mosses,
Burnt orange, vermilion, umber—
Yet here beside my foot
Is a tiny patch that glimmers
Like a constellation of fairy stars
Carved each of pale emerald.
But the small pools glitter and tremble
As though the marsh-queen had broken her necklace
Scattering far and wide
Its garnets and spinel-rubies.
Barbaric in color the mosses,
Burnt orange, vermilion, umber—
Yet here beside my foot
Is a tiny patch that glimmers
Like a constellation of fairy stars
Carved each of pale emerald.