There was emptiness When the birds left in the fall. But to fill it came late butterflies, Dawdling flocks of brilliant things In clouds of scintillating beauty, Covering every bush and flower. As silently as they came did they disappear And in their place came the music Of the katydid and the cricket. Day and night the cheerful songs Of these tiny insects were our company. Buried every green blade and bent to earth Great trees and slender saplings Under a thick weight of snow. To our door came the thrushes That we thought were gone,— Shy thrushes, that had turned their backs Upon us in summer and slipped Into the depth of the woods,— And whitethroats and tree sparrows, Unafraid, waiting for food. Even now the stillness is alive With the memory of these friendly folk. |