Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on his breast has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past: What is it that is dragging at my heart? The grass by the back door is stiff with sap. The old maples are opening their branches of brown and yellow moth-flowers. A moon hangs in the blue in the early afternoons over the marshes. I am late at my singing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAVE PAINTING by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH HOPE (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO MAY HOWARD JACKSON - SCULPTOR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOWN BY THE CARIB SEA: 4. THE LOTTERY GIRL by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |