Spring comes a heedless wanton to this town. Flaunting herself in street and alley-way; The red and yellow tatters of her gown Flutter from every bush and tree today. Where may eyes tired with too much colour turn? These crimsons, yellows, purples, rioting In this relentless tropic sunlight, burn Eyes long accustomed to a virgin spring. And one who lives upon a coral street That runs, flower-canopied, from hills to sea, May yearn for a sparse land where, coolly sweet, Spring wears the blossoms of an apple tree. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 34 by JAMES JOYCE I MAY, I MIGHT, I MUST by MARIANNE MOORE THE CHANGED WOMAN by LOUISE BOGAN BATTLE OF BRITAIN by CECIL DAY LEWIS GEOMETRY IS THE MIND OF GOD by JAMES GALVIN THE EXECUTIVE by DAVID IGNATOW |