Roses in the Subway
A wan-cheeked girl with faded eyes
Came stumbling down the crowded car,
Clutching her burden to her breast
As though she held a star.
Roses, I swear it! Red and sweet
And struggling from her pinched white hands,
Roses … like captured hostages
From far and fairy lands!
The thunder of the rushing train
Was like a hush. . . . The flower scent
Breathed faintly on the stale, whirled air
Like some dim sacrament—
I saw a garden stretching out
And morning on it like a crown—
And o'er a bed of crimson bloom
My mother … stooping down.
Came stumbling down the crowded car,
Clutching her burden to her breast
As though she held a star.
Roses, I swear it! Red and sweet
And struggling from her pinched white hands,
Roses … like captured hostages
From far and fairy lands!
The thunder of the rushing train
Was like a hush. . . . The flower scent
Breathed faintly on the stale, whirled air
Like some dim sacrament—
I saw a garden stretching out
And morning on it like a crown—
And o'er a bed of crimson bloom
My mother … stooping down.
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