Fear

The clouds swept out and off to one gray side

Of a taut orchard lightning-splintered,

And a stark wind split the alfalfa's wide

Blanket, and down where the calves had wintered

Nervous rain beat, and a savage whipping

Started the trees, and beneath the smudged door

A dark pool gathered, and the swift dipping

Of a window-shade threw over the floor

Quick sputtering shadows. . . . I watched you fill

The porch lamp, saw you draw over your hair

A dark shawl-then briefly against the sill

Lean and stare out over the fields; and where

Your hand stood a trembling was, and when you

Turned there was, lining your lips, a faint blue.