Dryads brown as the leaf.

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Dryads

When meadows are grey with the morn
In the dusk of the woods it is night:
The oak and the birch and the pine
War with the glimmer of light.

Dryads brown as the leaf
Move in the gloom of the glade;
When meadows are grey with the morn
Dim night in the wood has delayed.

The cocks that crow to the land
Are faint and hollow and shrill:
Dryads brown as the leaf
Whisper, and hide, and are still.

By Siegfried Sassoon

Artist Erica Wexler.

Text and image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/531188960392510/posts/1829572830554110/

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