They call me and I go. It is a frozen road past midnight, a dust of snow caught in the rigid wheeltracks. The door opens. I smile, enter and shake off the cold. Here is a great woman on her side in the bed. She is sick, perhaps vomiting, perhaps laboring to give birth to a tenth child. Joy! Joy! Night is a room darkened for lovers, through the jalousies the sun has sent one gold needle! I pick the hair from her eyes and watch her misery with compassion. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON HERO-WORSHIP; SONNET by AMY LOWELL A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1809) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN THE GARDEN AT THE DAWN HOUR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM AND EMILY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |