Streets

Amy LowellContemplative

As I wandered through the eight hundred and eight streets of the city, I saw nothing so beautiful As the Women of the Green Houses, With their girdles of spun gold. And their long-sleeved dresses. Coloured like the graining of wood. As they walk. The hems of their outer garments flutter open, And the blood-red linings glow like sharp-toothed maple leaves In Autumn.

Amy Lowell

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