________________________________________________________________________________________________
Read the entire essay here. |
The winter sun pulled aside a grimy negligee of clouds,
a bit consumptive, this Manhattan sun, giving nothing
but a pallid glow to windowpanes and sickly fever
to bare streets in summer, perpetual slush in winter.
Instead of giving it went about its own racket
of drawing life and color from city streets
as it drew rainfall from mountain streams.
Dawn Powell
________________________________________________________________________________________________
No comments:
Post a Comment