I A STORM of white petals, Buds throwing open baby fists Into hands of broad flowers. II Red roses running upward, Clambering to the clutches of life Soaked in crimson. III Rabbles of tattered leaves Holding golden flimsy hopes Against the tramplings Into the pits and gullies. IV Hoarfrost and silence: Only the muffling Of winds dark and lonesome -- Great lullabies to the long sleepers. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BAD CHILD'S BOOK OF BEASTS: INTRODUCTION by HILAIRE BELLOC THE ELEPHANT by HILAIRE BELLOC I'VE NEVER SEEN SUCH A REAL HARD TIME BEFORE' by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE WORLD AS WILL AND REPRESENTATION' by HAYDEN CARRUTH A POST-IMPRESSIONIST SUSURRATION FOR THE FIRST OF NOVEMBER by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH |