AS I wandered through the eight hundred and eight streets of the city, I saw nothing so beautiful As the Women of the Green Houses, With their girdles of spun gold, And their long-sleeved dresses, Colored like the graining of wood. As they walk, The hems of their outer garments flutter open, And the blood-red linings glow like sharp-toothed maple leaves In autumn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN WHIPPOORWILL (A GEORGIA ROMANCE) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET WORDS IN A CERTAIN APPROPRIATE MODE by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOW MY HEART SINKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON IN A BREATH; TO THE WILLIAMSON BROTHERS by CARL SANDBURG |