How many verticals there are! A poplar tree that points a star, Straight birches on an autumn hill That weave a length of gray lined twill, Sleek leaves of rhododendron curled By winter cold like green flags furled Hang stiffly from their staves of brown And stripe the bushes up and down. As Gothics lure the eyes on high I climb some uprights to the sky, But when sweet April's strings of rain Make puppet flowers dance again And pine trees' candled tips flash sparks While crows caw exclamation marks, Then inarticulate I stand With prisoned heart and shackled hand Behind frail bars of joy from whence My spirit cries its impotence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I KNOW, I REMEMBER, BUT HOW CAN I HELP YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE GUARDIAN OF THE RED DISK (SPOKEN BY A CITIZEN OF MALTA - 1300) by EMMA LAZARUS MOTHER JUNKIE by CLARENCE MAJOR SURFACES AND MASKS; 3 by CLARENCE MAJOR A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN |