It is a posture for two multiplied into a bouquet, a kneeling mother washing the feet of her naked infant before crossed mirrors, shoes of different pairs, a chinaman laughing at a nigger, a maple mingling leaves with an elm, it is butter and eggs: yellow slippers with orange bows to them, chickens and pigs in a barnyard, not too important -- the little double favors, you and I, a shirt handed to a naked man by his barelegged wife, scratch my back for me, oh and empty the slopbucket when you go down -- and get me that flower, I can't reach it. A low greyleaved thing growing in clusters, how else? -- with a swollen head -- slippers for sale, they put mirrors in those stores to make it seem -- Closely packed in a bouquet but never quite succeeding to be more than -- a passageway to something else. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE REV. F.D. MAURICE by ALFRED TENNYSON IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER THE SECOND MOTHERHOOD by ST. CLAIR ADAMS ESTEEMING THE BIBLE by HORATIO (HORATIUS) BONAR SWAMI VIVEKANANDA by LAVINIA R. CLARK LOVE, HOPE, AND PATIENCE IN EDUCATION by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |