And the Noise Was Heard Afar Off

The Old Weep Gently:

These old trees
Sigh in every leaf,
Look down their trunks
As if back down the years.
Old knots stay
Where limbs were torn away—
Little fist-rubbed faces
Of gargoyle grief ;
While shadows
Slip down the trunks
Like tears. 

Yvor Winters.