MORNING AT THE WINDOW
Theyare rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchensAnd along the trampled edges of the streetI am aware of the damp souls of housemaidsSprouting despondently at area gates.The brown waves of fog toss up to meTwisted faces from the bottom of the street,And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirtsAn aimless smile that hovers in the airAnd vanishes along the level of the roofs.
Theyare rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchensAnd along the trampled edges of the streetI am aware of the damp souls of housemaidsSprouting despondently at area gates.The brown waves of fog toss up to meTwisted faces from the bottom of the street,And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirtsAn aimless smile that hovers in the airAnd vanishes along the level of the roofs.
Theyare rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchensAnd along the trampled edges of the streetI am aware of the damp souls of housemaidsSprouting despondently at area gates.
Theyare rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens
And along the trampled edges of the street
I am aware of the damp souls of housemaids
Sprouting despondently at area gates.
The brown waves of fog toss up to meTwisted faces from the bottom of the street,And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirtsAn aimless smile that hovers in the airAnd vanishes along the level of the roofs.
The brown waves of fog toss up to me
Twisted faces from the bottom of the street,
And tear from a passer-by with muddy skirts
An aimless smile that hovers in the air
And vanishes along the level of the roofs.