One is accustomed to see on rainy sidewalks
brown worms, and on lawns some listening robins.
One is accustomed to hear anxious women
call from the doors of their cute little houses,
call to their wet and possibly sick children,
who want to play outside in spite of rainfall.
brown worms, and on lawns some listening robins.
One is accustomed to hear anxious women
call from the doors of their cute little houses,
call to their wet and possibly sick children,
who want to play outside in spite of rainfall.
Who crouch where lilac leaves are dripping rainfall—
how far from worms that loll along the sidewalks!
Their chatter interferes with the rapt robins—
stalk-peck, they go, stalk-peck. Meanwhile the women
say No to waiting in their clammy houses,
but march out shouting and hallooing for their children.
how far from worms that loll along the sidewalks!
Their chatter interferes with the rapt robins—
stalk-peck, they go, stalk-peck. Meanwhile the women
say No to waiting in their clammy houses,
but march out shouting and hallooing for their children.
Beside some pea or radish plot, the children
are building mounds of mud to staunch the rainfall.
The birds stick to the grass, avoiding sidewalks
on which worms would be easy prey for robins.
Peering here and there, the determined women
survey whole city blocks of boxy houses—
are building mounds of mud to staunch the rainfall.
The birds stick to the grass, avoiding sidewalks
on which worms would be easy prey for robins.
Peering here and there, the determined women
survey whole city blocks of boxy houses—
And cannot bring themselves to return to houses,
to sit and fret while their ungrateful children
fail every one to come out of the rainfall,
but hide away, remote from the tired sidewalks
on which the brown worms crawl, secure from robins,
though not from the sharp tread of striding women.
to sit and fret while their ungrateful children
fail every one to come out of the rainfall,
but hide away, remote from the tired sidewalks
on which the brown worms crawl, secure from robins,
though not from the sharp tread of striding women.
Nothing, it seems, can discourage these stern women.
Nothing can restrain them. The wretched houses
could not contain them. Like reckless children,
they scorn all shelter against steady rainfall,
the one to pace the broad, worm-slimy sidewalks,
the other to pose obstacles for robins.
Nothing can restrain them. The wretched houses
could not contain them. Like reckless children,
they scorn all shelter against steady rainfall,
the one to pace the broad, worm-slimy sidewalks,
the other to pose obstacles for robins.
And no one thinks about the silly robins,
neither the inconsiderate children nor the women,
and the robins have no use for the stuffy houses.
What must we think? If these wayward children
would return home, could lush, warm rainfall
bring un-abating joy to worms on sidewalks?
neither the inconsiderate children nor the women,
and the robins have no use for the stuffy houses.
What must we think? If these wayward children
would return home, could lush, warm rainfall
bring un-abating joy to worms on sidewalks?
Who blames the women? They would fill the houses.
Who feeds the birds? Who paved the crossing sidewalks?
Who feeds the birds? Who paved the crossing sidewalks?
