An oblique cloud of purple smoke across a milky silhouette of house sides and tiny trees -- a little village -- that ends in a saw edge of mist-covered trees on a sheet of grey sky. To the right, jutting in, a dark crimson corner of roof. To the left, half a tree: -- what a blessing it is to see you in the street again, powerful woman, coming with swinging haunches, breasts straight forward, supple shoulders, full arms and strong, soft hands (I've felt them) carrying the heavy basket. I might well see you oftener! And for a different reason than the fresh eggs you bring us so regularly. Yes, you, young as I, with boney brows, kind grey eyes and a kind mouth; you walking out toward me from that dead hillside! I might well see you oftener. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER WINTER by STERLING ALLEN BROWN VICTORY BELLS by GRACE HAZARD CONKLING BRONX, 1818 by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE ESTONIAN BRIDAL SONG by JOHANN GOTTFRIED VON HERDER POLLY by WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS ODES: BOOK 2: ODE 5. ON LOVE OF PRAISE by MARK AKENSIDE THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. THE GASTRIC MUSE by JOHN ARMSTRONG PSALM 32. BEATI QUORUM REMISSA SUNT by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: HER NAME LIBERTY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |