Classic Poem

Quiet is fireshine when the light is gone,
The kettle's steam is comfort and the low song.
Now all the day's business stills down and is done
To watch them seems but right; nothing at all is wrong.

Save the dark thoughts within most bitter with
Disappointment, mere pain; gnawing at heart's peace.
The heavy heart so ponderous once was lithe
Travelling the hill slope easy at light's pace.

Quiet is fireshine, and the mind would soak
Years ago, after football, in drowse of light.
Now the slack body is sick and a bitter joke
To a soul too sick for dreams at fall of night.