Helene Johnson — A southern Road

Yolk- colored tongue Parched beneath a burning sky, A lazy little tune Hummed up the crest of some Softs sloping hill. One streaming line of beauty Flowering by a forest Pregnant with tears. A hidden nest for beauty Idly flung ny God In one lonely lingering hour Before the Sabbath. A blue-fruited black gum, Like a tall predella, Bears a dangling figure,— Sacrificial dower to the raff, Swinging alone, A solemn, tortured shadow in the air.