Perhaps, a tree, a sweet slim tree, And when the wind with fluted strings Sends little joyous signalings I twirl my painted skirts and dance a gay coupee! The passerby can only see Me knitting soberly. At times, a gull, a storm-swept gull, I fight my way from crest to crest My heart congealed within my breast! I rise! I fall! To rise again with ecstasy! The passerby can only see Me knitting placidly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY FATHER'S FACE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SEPARATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LOHENGRIN; PROEM by EMMA LAZARUS THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS DOMESDAY BOOK: ARCHIBALD LOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VIGNETTES OVERSEAS: 11. HAMBURG by SARA TEASDALE A VOICE FROM THE SWEAT-SHOPS (A HYMN WITH RESPONSES) by LOUIS UNTERMEYER |