Evensong
By Peter Leithart
Evensong
A full moon rises from behind The topmost branches of a tree, Then slants across the sky.
A pheasant?s shriek joins distant shouts, The barks and laughter from the park, On the cooling air.
Then comes the silence of the night: Not the silence of the dead, But too alive for sound,
Like a choir waiting poised, Or like a watchful coiled cat, Or like a breathless lover.
Peter Leithart
Peter J. Leithart is President of Theopolis Institute. He is the author of numerous books on theology, literature, and culture, including Theopolitan, Defending Constantine, and Baptized Body.
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