Author Yvor Winters Inimitably quickTo taut deceit, INote a birdAmid the autumnAnd my glossy bitchShatters leavesLike water,And the airIs resonantWith pain.I wait like oneWho has stood here beforeWith sunken headIn dropping leaves. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments