Spring Comes To Old 14th Street - Poem by robert dickerson
Spring comes to old 14th street-
under their tarpaulins
the bums yawn and stir their limbs
Winter no more rankles their ankles.
(ginkoes gasp into rheumy bloom)
...to 14th street:
glass glistens there, here,
A bird unzips the sky.
the gosh-darn Spring comes to ancient 14th Street-
here's grit in your eye.
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