The Girl Outside the C.N.R. Station

 

She's hardly a fistful of insight
inside all that skin
but she has an arabesque face

and hands of angel-wing,

Like a distant quarter-moon
or a yellow daffodil left lying
in the sand,

And she's bounding with the wind
down the icv street at dusk
with twenty autumn leaves spinning
behind her
and a pair of ice-skates over
her shoulder,

swinging to and fro,

ts she goes to meet the silhouette
woo S: SfPandins dom, the road:

fi Mmamdrake

 

 

An excerpt from The Garden Wall

Where ever you are

my jobless rootless traveller across
the country

I need a little’of your wet sympathy

hecause T%m here in a noisy swollen

mt eer
aii Cae

bd

with a suitcase banging my thigh
and not an exit in sight.

Once I rode

Once I rode my windosill to NEW YORK

to see a BROADWAY play

but I left my money under the bed

and my clothes in the washina machine

I thought perhans 1 would need fare

to catch the midnight pane back home

so I said,

"As long as I*m h:efe, in my bare
condition,

"I think I'll go backstage and ‘audition."

But I wasn't alone.
"NEW YORK has so many partakers,"
I flashed,

"They all fell here when their windows
crashed."

When they didn't believe me,
I called them all windbreakers.

 

’
eas Rlaev etna tne eens