At ten A.M. the young housewife moves about in negligee behind the wooden walls of her husband's house. I pass solitary in my car. Then again she comes to the curb to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands shy, uncorseted, tucking in stray ends of hair, and I compare her to a fallen leaf. The noiseless wheels of my car rush with a crackling sound over dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR A' THAT AND A' THAT by CHARLES WILLIAM SHIRLEY BROOKS WINTER NIGHT by CH'IEN WEN OF LIANG A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 54 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE WANDER-LOVERS by RICHARD HOVEY IN MEMORY OF WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE |