A sky that has never known sun, moon or stars, A sky that is like a dead kind face, Would have the color of your eyes, O servant girl, singing of pear trees in the sun, And scraping the yellow fruit you once picked When your lavender-white eyes were alive. On the porch above you are two women, Whose faces have the color of brown earth that has never felt rain. The still wet basins of ponds that have been drained Are their eyes. They knit gray rosettes and nibble cakes. And on the top porch are three children Gravely kissing each other's foreheads, And an ample nurse with a huge red fan. The passing of the afternoon to them Is but the lengthening of blue-black shadows on brick walls. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEARS IN SLEEP by LOUISE BOGAN ODES I, 38. AD MINISTRAM by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS RAILROAD RHYME by JOHN GODFREY SAXE A RHYMED REVIEW; 'LAUGHING MUSE' (BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN) by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE LUNCH by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH ON READING THE 'RUBAIYAT' OF OMAR KHAYYAM IN A KENTISH ROSE GARDEN by MATHILDE BLIND A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 34 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |