State Street is lonely today. Aunt Jane Allen has driven her chariot to Heaven. I remember how she hobbled along, a little woman, parched of skin, brown as the leather of a satchel and with eyes that had scanned eighty years of life. Have those who bore her dust to the last resting place buried with her the basket of aprons she went up and down State Street trying to sell? Have those who bore her dust to the last resting place buried with her the gentle worn @3Son@1 that she gave to each of the seed of Ethiopia? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOW MY HEART SINKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET-CRIES: 2. THE SHIP OF EARTH by SIDNEY LANIER STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER MY LIGHT WITH YOURS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM |