She sweeps with many-colored brooms, And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! . You dropped a purple ravelling in, You dropped an amber thread; And now you've littered all the East With duds of emerald! . And still she plies her spotted brooms, And still the aprons fly, Till brooms fade softly into stars -- And then I come away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH GETHSEMANE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |