Passers-by on Snowy Night

Black the coniferous darkness,
White the snow track between,
And the moon, skull-white in its starkness,
Watches upper ledges lean,

And regards with the same distant stare,
And equal indifference,
How your breath goes white in steel air
As you trudge from whither to whence.

For from somewhere you rose to go,
Maybe long before daylight withdrew,
With the dream of a windowpane’s glow
And a path trodden to invite you.

And, indeed, there may be such a place,
Perhaps at the next corner or swerve,
Where someone presses a face
To the frost-starred glass, though the curve

Shows yet only mocking moonlight.
But soon, but soon! –Alone,
I wish you well in your night
As I pass you in my own.

We each hear the distant friction,
Then crack of bough burdened with snow,
And each takes the owl’s benediction,
And each goes the way he will go.

Robert Penn Warren

Photo by 古 天熱