The classic landscapes of dreams are not More pathless, though footprints leading nowhere Would seem to prove that a people once Survived for a little even here. Fragments of a pathetic culture Remain, the lost mittens of children, And a single, bright, detasseled snow cap, Evidence of some frantic migration. The landmarks are gone. Nevertheless, There is something familiar about this country. Slowly now we begin to recall The terrible whispers of our elders Falling softly about our ears In childhood, never believed till now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NAMING FOR LOVE by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WILLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: LILLI ALM by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE INEBRIATE by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM ON REFUSAL OF AID BETWEEN NATIONS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE AVENUE by GEORGES BOUTELLEAU OLD LADY NECESSITY by BERTON BRALEY |