The classic landscapes of dreams are not More pathless, though footprints leading nowhere Would seem to prove that a people once Survived for a little even here. Fragments of a pathetic culture Remain, the lost mittens of children, And a single, bright, detasseled snow cap, Evidence of some frantic migration. The landmarks are gone. Nevertheless, There is something familiar about this country. Slowly now we begin to recall The terrible whispers of our elders Falling softly about our ears In childhood, never believed till now. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CORPORATE ENTITY by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH DUSK IN WAR TIME by SARA TEASDALE FABLES: 1ST SER. 5. THE WILD BOAR AND THE RAM by JOHN GAY EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 14. THE POWERFUL ATTRACTION by PHILIP AYRES PENULTIMATE PURITAN by HELEN L. BARNES ON THE BIRTH OF JOHN WILLIAM RIZZO HOPPNER by GEORGE GORDON BYRON CHILDREN'S WELCOMING by ELIZA COOK PHILOXIPES AND POLICRITE; AN ESSAY TO AN HEROIC POEM: CANTO 1 by CHARLES COTTON |