There on the littered streets she sits, and chats with passing friends, While a deft neighbour combs her halr, piles high the sleek, black ends; She holds her gushing nipple to the child upon her knee, Plucks vermin from its curls; and sells her oranges to me. me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AFTER TWO YEARS by RICHARD ALDINGTON FOR ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S EVE by MALCOLM COWLEY PENDULUM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON QUESTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE COLOR SERGEANT by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON CARPACCIO'S PICTURE: THE DREAM OF ST. URSALA; SONNET by AMY LOWELL |