Snow: years of anger following hours that float idly down -- the blizzard drifts its weight deeper and deeper for three days or sixty years, eh? Then the sun! a clutter of yellow and blue flakes -- Hairy looking trees stand out in long alleys over a wild solitude. The man turns and there -- his solitary track stretched out upon the world. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARIA CALLAS, THE WOMAN BEHIND THE LEGEND* by MADELINE DEFREES BROTHERHOOD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO NANNETTE FALK-AUERBACH by SIDNEY LANIER ON A CERTAIN CRITIC by AMY LOWELL MOTHER JUNKIE by CLARENCE MAJOR JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |