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Song of Dusk
Nancy Byrd Turner


When he comes home at twilight,
  I hear, above the beat
Of hoof and wheel on stone and steel,
  His footfall in the street.

I see, though daylight darkened
  And faded long before,
Across the gloom that fills my room
  His dear face at the door.

When he comes in at twilight,
  The world that seemed so vast,
So broad outside, and wild and wide,
  Shrinks very small at last,

Shuts very safe and quiet
  From dangers and alarms—
A happy space, a sheltered place,
  The circle of his arms!

From Silver Saturday (Dodd, Mead & Company, 1937)
This poem is in the public domain.

Nancy Byrd Turner (1880 - 1971) was born in Virginia. A descendant of both Thomas Jefferson and Pocohantas, Nancy began writing poetry as a child. She studied to become a teacher, and did teach for a few years, but eventually she became a magazine editor. During the course of her career, she published 15 books, several songs, and her work appeared regularly in the leading magazines of her day. Late in her life, Nancy became a freelance writer and a popular lecturer.



Post New Comment:
Nicely classic and warm!
Posted 02/12/2024 08:14 PM
This is my kind of poem~~great choice for the day!
Posted 02/08/2024 06:24 PM
Wilda Morris:
Posted 02/08/2024 09:12 AM
Darrell Arnold:
This is a beautifully rendered poem. Rhyming, meter, construction, message, all quite brilliant. I think it's her husband.
Posted 02/08/2024 08:53 AM
I love this poem! So evocative.
Posted 02/08/2024 08:37 AM
Gilbert Allen:
A graceful lyric poem.
Posted 02/08/2024 08:06 AM

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