You say love is this, love is that: Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip -- branches drifting apart. Hagh! Love has not even visited this country. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 10 by JAMES JOYCE CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN'S GENITALS by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE STORY OF THE END OF THE STORY by JAMES GALVIN DISMAL MOMENT PASSING by CLARENCE MAJOR NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A DEAD MAN by CARL SANDBURG THE UNDERGRADUATE KILLED IN BATTLE; OXFORD, 1915 by GEORGE SANTAYANA |