The High Hills Have A Bitterness

The high hills have a bitterness
Now they are not known
And memory is poor enough consolation
For the soul helpless gone.
Up in the air there beech tangles wildly in the wind
That I can imagine
But the speed, the swiftness, walking into clarity,
Like last years bryony are gone.

by Ivor Gurney

Comments (1)

A beautiful, meaningful poem