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 HILLS WERE MADE FOR FREEDOM by WILLIAM GOLDSMITH BROWN SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 6 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING TAM O' SHANTER by ROBERT BURNS EVENING by GEORGE WASHINGTON DOANE BRONX, 1818 by JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE CHRISMUS IS A-COMIN' by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR |