Classic Poem

The red rear-light of a speeding car
Crosses the fell like a shooting star,
And over the ridge and out of sight—
And my heart drops back into night.

I turn from the porch and bar the door,
Knowing my heart will greet no more
The blaze whose coming bedazzled the night,
Then, passing, shrank to a wild red light—

A wild red light, like a windblown spark,
That dwindled out in the swallowing dark:
But my heart is a hollow where still burns red
As a fatal star the rash word said.