Classic Poem

Flinging itself at street and store window,
Rainy darkness suddenly drenches the city.
Wet, globulous lights are a-glimmer through it,
And wet motors, that swim by seethingly.

Thunder rumbles down on windy umbrellas;
And the sidewalks are paved with phosphorescence
As a quick vein of lightning spills viridly
Over the cornice-grey of the sky-scrapers.

A traffic-cop whistles and turns his semaphore,
In dripping rubber. Feet scurry to shelter, —
Slenderly stockinged ankles tempting among them,
As again the green lightning momently gushes.

Corners are clogged, and window-fronts, with faces
That look forth sodden for cars, or for a surcease
Of the downpour. A newsie calls a murder,
But knows that the rain has shunted its " sensation."

Five numb notes drop from a murky dial.
Work is at end, and the doorways pour pale toilers, —
Among them a clerk and a shopgirl insulated
By intimacy and planning to meet at a movie.

Six beats fall from the dial; the rain drizzles.
The throng thins, and the newsie coughs hoarsely,
With but one paper left. The street is empty,
Till cool, silent airs creep from alley-ways, and wander.