Poems (Kennedy)/Chimney Tops

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CHIMNEY TOPS
BEYOND my window ledge I see The roofs across the way,Their chimneys silhouetted sharp Against the ashen day.A trail of smoke of darker hue High up the cloud-way swings,And then—white pigeons skurry by On silent, silken wings.
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A dull, disheartening scene; and yet This lesson we may learn:Far down the chimneys' blackened throats The hearth fires softly burn.From stair to stair, down every flight, They keep the secret fastOf burned-out ash or ruddy glow— Starved hearts or love at last.
And blackened roofs are shield'ng tents Where hide from passing kenThe primrose joys of hope and peace Or sins of soul-wrecked menWho, like the caravans of old, Rest in their tents a-day,And then o'er time's uncharted sands Slip silently away.
Ah, sordid roofs and chimney tops Up there in silhouette,You keep a thousand loves and lies And ghosts of old regrets!The while the pigeons on the eaves With snowy, folded wings,Bear witness that mid soil and grime May live the cleaner things.
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