The Poetry Corner

I Crossed The Orchard Walking Home

By Richard Le Gallienne

I crossed the orchard, walking home, The rising moon was at my back, The apples and the moonlight fell Together on the railroad track. Then, speeding through the evening dews, A dozen lighted windows glide - The East-bound flyer for New York, Soft as a magic-lantern slide. New York! on through the sleeping flowers, Through echoing midnight on to noon; How strange that yonder is New York, And here such silence and the moon.