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Nocturne
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Jacob Korg
April 1939
Watchman, have you seen the moon
Escape the clouds in cold disdain?
Be warned, the day will dawn too soon;
You will have watched and dreamed in vain
When day slants down the weary street
And doorways open to the light
And window-flowers turn to greet
The yellow sun with new delight.
The changing patterns of our ways
Are not for you, who sit serene
Outside the limits of our days;
When city battlements are seen
Like things not made of steel and stone,
Like formless ghosts against the sky.
Life lifts a hand to you alone
In greeting as it passes by.
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