From Brooklyn Poem by Evelyn Scott
From Brooklyn
Along the shore
A black net of branches
Tangles the pulpy yellow lamps.
The shell-colored sky is lustrous with the fading sun.
Across the river Manhattan floats-
Dim gardens of fire-
And rushing invisible toward me through the fog,
A hurricane of faces.
Tuesday, June 16, 2015
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4/26/2024 9:57:35 PM # 1.0.0.1119
