At ten A.M. the young housewife moves about in negligee behind the wooden walls of her husband's house. I pass solitary in my car. Then again she comes to the curb to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands shy, uncorseted, tucking in stray ends of hair, and I compare her to a fallen leaf. The noiseless wheels of my car rush with a crackling sound over dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BROKEN FIELD by SARA TEASDALE JERUSALEM; THE EMANATION OF THE GIANT ALBION: CHAPTER 2 by WILLIAM BLAKE A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 4 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT A CHILD'S GRACE AT FLORENCE; A.A.E.C. by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TO SORROW by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN INSOMNIA by EDOUARD JOACHIM CORBIERE |