Sunday night and the park policemen tell each other it is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan. A big picnic boat comes home to Chicago from the peach farms of Saugatuck. Hundreds of electric bulbs break the night's darkness, a flock of red and yellow birds with wings at a standstill. Running along the deck railings are festoons and leaping in curves are loops of light from prow and stern to the tall smokestacks. Over the hoarse crunch of waves at my pier comes a hoarse answer in the rythmic oompa of the brasses playing a Polish folksong for the home-comers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CASEY AT THE BAT (1) by ERNEST LAWRENCE THAYER THE CASE OF SABRINA SIMPSON USCH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE HANDSOME KNIGHT by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II THE INN ALBUM: PART 1 by ROBERT BROWNING EPITAPH FOR ROBERT AIKEN by ROBERT BURNS |