DRAGOONS, I tell you the white hydrangeas turn rust and go soon. Already mid September a line of brown runs over them. One sunset after another tracks the faces, the petals. Waiting, they look over the fence for what way they go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: BARRETT BAYS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: COLUMBUS CHENEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: SHACK DYE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |