The orphans sleep in a big bare room, Their beds are all in rows -- And why an even space between Not any orphan knows. They go to walk in afternoons, Their hats are always blue; The little ones go hand in hand And always two by two. Sometimes I look beneath the brim That shades an orphan's eyes, And radiance that's hidden there Gives me a fresh surprise. It makes me think of a row of flowers In a forgotten yard, That push their way through cracks in the walk, When the trodden earth is hard. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARTHA WASHINGTON by SIDNEY LANIER BLACK EAGLE RETURNS TO ST. JOE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BUSINESS REVERSES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TROY PARK: 5. THE CAT by EDITH SITWELL REALITY REQUIRES by WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA ARCTURUS IN AUTUMN by SARA TEASDALE |