My shirts on the line (One sleeve has fondly blown Around its neighbor's shoulders) Look like drunks at a funeral. Raindrops open parachutes Shading off to snow. The back fence leans in And curves down like a breaking wave. Beyond it The slender lodgepole pines Stand to close together You couldn't walk through them In your body. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW IT STRIKES A CONTEMPORARY by ROBERT BROWNING ROBERT BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY BEFORE BANNOCKBURN by ROBERT BURNS THE MOWER'S SONG by ANDREW MARVELL THE COTTON BOLL by HENRY TIMROD TRANSFIGURATION by LOUISA MAY ALCOTT LILIES: 6. MY BELOVED by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |