Hair--braided chestnut,
coiled like a lyncher's rope,
Eyes--fagots,
Lips--old scars, or the first red blisters,
Breath--the last sweet scent of cane,
And her slim body, white as the ash
of black flesh after flame.
Share this Poem:
Quotes of the Day
Poetry is a way of living...a human activity like baking bread or playing basketball.
by James Whitcomb Riley
_May 1, 1891_.
I.
Elizabeth! Elizabeth!
The first May-morning whispereth
Thy gentle name in every breeze
That lispeth through the young-leaved trees,
New raimented in white and green