NANCY HANKS dreams by the fire; Dreams, and the logs sputter, And the yellow tongues climb. Red lines lick their way in flickers. Oh, sputter, logs. Oh, dream, Nancy. Time now for a beautiful child. Time now for a tall man to come. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETICAL ABSTRACTS: 2. METAPHYSICAL by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE LEAVES OF THE TREE HIDE THE SUN by DAVID IGNATOW NEW YEAR'S EVE by DAVID IGNATOW COMPANIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE LAMP OF LIFE by AMY LOWELL DISMAL MOMENT PASSING by CLARENCE MAJOR |