As I went down the hill along the wall There was a gate I had leaned at for the view And had just turned from when I first saw you As you came up the hill. We met. But all We did that day was mingle great and small Footprints in summer dust as if we drew The figure of our being less than two But more than one as yet. Your parasol Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust. And all the time we talked you seemed to see Something down there to smile at in the dust. (Oh, it was without prejudice to me!) Afterward I went past what you had passed Before we met and you what I had passed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEGY: THE LAMENT OF EDWARD BLASTOCK; FOR RICHARD ROWLEY by EDITH SITWELL THE ARCHITECT (2) by KAREN SWENSON THE LIGHTS OF NEW YORK by SARA TEASDALE MAY AND DEATH by ROBERT BROWNING ON THE RUINS OF A COUNTRY INN by PHILIP FRENEAU BURY ME IN A FREE LAND by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER |