Poetry of Kansas
 

Decrescendo

The arc of the moon, in waning,
Is smooth as her upward swing;
Autumn and quiet winter
Flow gently down from spring;
Music that swells crescendo
Till stars to far stars call,
Slips with a throb of beauty
Into its dying fall;
Roses are calm through cycles
Of petal and petal-dust:

But men grow old resentfully,
And only because they must.

Seesaw
May Williams Ward
page 17
(Atlanta: The Bozart Press. 1929)

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September 5, 2004 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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