Snow silence fills my head
After I leave the window.
Hours later near dawn
When I look down again
The whole landscape has changed
The perfect surface gone
Criss-crossed and written on
Where the wild creatures ranged
While the moon rose and shone.
Why did my dog not bark?
Why did I hear no sound
There on the snow-locked ground
In the tumultuous dark?
How much can come, how much can go
When the December moon is bright,
What worlds of play we'll never know
Sleeping away the cold white night
After a fall of snow.
FromComing into Eighty(W.W. Norton & Company).
Eleanore Marie Sarton (1912 – 1995), better known as May Sarton, was a Belgian-born author who wrote poetry, novels, and memoirs. She was three when her family moved to Boston. Her work often focused on the human experience—love, friendship, aging, and creativity.