Green gloves rustle
On the avenue's branches

The evening carries us under its arm
By a path which leaves no trace

The rain falls on its knees
Before the fugitive windows

The yards come out of their gates
And stand looking after us

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 749 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Vasko Popa
Poem: Far Within Us #4
Volume: Bark
Year: Published/Written in 1953
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