**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Poem.

Enjoy this? Share it!

The Sky Line [quatrain]
by [?]

Like black fangs in a cruel ogre’s jaw
The grim piles lift against the sunset sky;
Down drops the night, and shuts the horrid maw–
I listen, breathless, but there comes no cry.