They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the rigid wheeltracks. The door opens. I smile, enter and shake off the cold. Here is a great woman on her side in the bed. She is sick, perhaps vomiting, perhaps laboring to give birth to a tenth child. Joy! Joy! Night is a room darkened for lovers, through the jalousies the sun has sent one gold needle! I pick the hair from her eyes and watch her misery with compassion. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WINTER SONG by KATHERINE MANSFIELD LAUS INFANTIUM by WILLIAM CANTON THE RETIRED CAT by WILLIAM COWPER THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 17 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 49. WILLOWWOOD (1) by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI GOING BACK TO SCHOOL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET FAMILIARITY DANGEROUS by VINCENT BOURNE POEM BY A PERFECTLY FURIOUS ACADEMICIAN by CHARLES WILLIAM SHIRLEY BROOKS |