Loneliness

I watched the moon behind the trees
Float in a sea of sky.
The aspen whispers in the breeze,
The rest is silence now.  And I
Can feel my loneliness around
Me fall.  No human face
There is.  None speaks.  Never a sound
Save whispering leaves in this place.

I have two friends, and they are dead,
Perhaps about their graves
Are trees that whisper overhead,
While in the grass the nettle waves.

– T.H.W. Armstrong, 1919

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