DRAGOONS, I tell you the white hydrangeas turn rust and go soon. Already mid September a line of brown runs over them. One sunset after another tracks the faces, the petals. Waiting, they look over the fence for what way they go. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY-FOUR HOKKU ON A MODERN THEME by AMY LOWELL CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE INCORRIGIBLE DIRIGIBLE by HAYDEN CARRUTH TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE CHANT OF THE VULTURES by EDWIN MARKHAM |