When Day becomes a shepherdess and herds The autumn clouds like sheep across the sky, Winsome and dark, a singing cloud of birds Curves swiftly to a maple tree nearby.
They come to rest late in the afternoon— I've watched them tuck their heads beneath soft wings; Dearest—my own—shall you be coming soon? Your haven waits—and mine your dear heart brings.
Two quiet images carry this short poem. In the first, evening arrives as a shepherdess driving autumn clouds across the sky like a flock, while a swarm of dark birds swoops into a nearby maple tree. In the second, the speaker turns from the sky to a personal appeal: she has watched the birds tuck their heads under their wings to sleep, and now she asks her beloved, "shall you be coming soon?"
The birds settling for the night become a picture of what the speaker herself longs for. They have found their resting place; she is still waiting for hers. The last line suggests that the home she offers and the home she finds in his heart are one and the same. The mood is gentle, soft and a little wistful, the calm of dusk shaded with the ache of missing someone. The tone stays tender rather than anxious, more a quiet invitation than a plea.