The House of the Trees
& Other Poems


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

The Chipmunk



TO-DAY the green hill was at strife
With me; it robbed my feet of life.
The wind that loudly speaks his mind,
Said in my presence nothing kind.
The sky’s clear face was from me turned,

5

Behind a cloud his great fire burned.

An exile in his native cot,
Who finds his very name forgot,
Was I this afternoon, until
At the wood’s edge behind the hill,

10

A chipmunk flashed, and leapt a limb,
And took my heart away with him. [Page 63]