A great DH Lawrence poem...

Anxiety

    By D. H. Lawrence (David Herbert Richards)


    The hoar-frost crumbles in the sun,
    The crisping steam of a train
    Melts in the air, while two black birds
    Sweep past the window again.

    Along the vacant road, a red
    Bicycle approaches; I wait
    In a thaw of anxiety, for the boy
    To leap down at our gate.

    He has passed us by; but is it
    Relief that starts in my breast?
    Or a deeper bruise of knowing that still
    She has no rest