The Ghetto and Other Poems by Lola Ridge
page 32 of 75 (42%)
page 32 of 75 (42%)
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Breaking and ebbing away...
And the bare boughs shuffle above him And the twigs rattle like dice... She--diffused like a broken beetle-- Sprawls without grace, Her face gray as asphalt, Her jaws sagging as on loosened hinges... Shadows ply about her mouth-- Nimble shadows out of the jigging tree, That dances above her its dance of dry bones. II A uniformed front, Paunched; A glance like a blow, The swing of an arm, Verved, vigorous; Boot-heels clanking In metallic rhythm; The blows of a baton, Quick, staccato... --There is a rustling along the benches As of dried leaves raked over... And the old man lifts a shaking palsied hand, Tucking the displaced paper about his knees. Colder... |
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