Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE CITY CALLS, by LEXIE DEAN ROBERTSON



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THE CITY CALLS, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: My little garden wall is gray
Last Line: With watching the wild birds fly.
Subject(s): Cities; Traffic; Urban Life


MY little garden wall is gray
Where amber grapes are growing,
But I must be where walls are tall,
And crowds are going.
I long to hear the news-boys' call—
Wheels grinding, whistles blowing.

There is silver frost on the dahlia blooms,
And orchid smoke on a saffron sky,
But the black shine of a rain-wet street
Where hurrying feet go by
Is color enough for one who is tired
With watching the wild birds fly.





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