THE  DREAM
 
The corn-sheaves hold their heads together 
and weep and whisper under the moon . . . 

A lone gleaner bends among the stooks, 
gathering the wheat-straws one by one. 
She has her apron half full: 
her cheeks are pale: her eyes, black holes. 

The corn-sheaves hold their heads together 
and weep and whisper under the moon . . . 

Now behold a mad dog, ravening through the field, 
foam flicking from his grinning mouth, 
heading for the gleaner! He knocks her down 
and her scream strikes shrilly into the night. 

O what should I do to help her? . . . 
She had her apron half full . . . 

She was gleaning there when the dog came: 
she screamed! And now she lies 
whitening bones among scattered straws . . . 
the dog is gone: the night is still . . . 

The corn-sheaves hold their heads together 
and weep and whisper under the moon.

                              (1945)