Talk on the Ranch, by Evelyn Scott

Talk on the Ranch

It is cold in the circle of mountains,
A fireless hearth.
The stars drift like autumn leaves.
Only the rustle--
Then, close together,
Our talk,
For and counter,
One grating against the other,
Rubs a little fire
And we warm each other
There in the midst of the hollow clammy circle.

poems.one - Evelyn Scott

Evelyn Scott