Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/216

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
"We'll rest." He wiped an arm across a browFouled with the twitching spider-web, and leantAgainst a low dead stump, steadying nowHer passage toward him, much as though he meantTo hold the pressure till her breathless faceEncountered his; then, suddenly continent,He loosed her hand. She poised in the dark place,
Her heart pounding, gasping as though distressed.She smoothed a dampened, restless strand of hair.A smile colored her echoing words: "We'll rest.It is steep." Then they sniffed the thinner air,Sharply brought closer, as the conquered riseMade clear that they at length had mounted whereThere were no more of censoring city eyes.
The isolation was a sudden thrustCleaving them, like a whispered word of warning.He brushed ahead; a startled smoke of dustTrailed like a widening curtain. Quickly scorningThe stiff precipitous way, she followed higherThrough crushing shadow and jutting branch, adorningThis path that pointed toward an unseen fire.
Partly to dull two fires—the one that charredHer cheeks, the one still deeper—she called out:"You think we'll see it?" He was climbing hard,So far ahead, his answer was a shout."I think we may." He waited, eyes uncertain,Until her sky-lit face came near, to routThe dark, as daybreak tears night's shadowy curtain.
He guided to the summit. Fingers tingledUneasily, driven thoughts clung and caressed;The sharp throbs of their breathing met and mingled.She sank in a grass cushion on the crest,Content to forget far fire and its far are.She settled into a tender bladed nest,His body lengthened upward in the dark,

201

This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.