where shadows whisper

        


           Leavings

Brightest guests have gone
Green furnishings are down,

Shadeless light condones
Black frost on window panes.

Where lovers and grasses
Spent their seeds
Over iron crevices
Ice now makes the beds.

Yet indulge no regret.

Mouse eye of robin,

Creeping silence,

These cautious lines,

Bear witness still

In their circumvention

To the constant
Tenancy of man.

                                      John Berger