The Lonely Street

Sour Grapes (1921)
by
William Carlos Williams

The Lonely Street

School is over. It is too hot

to walk at ease. At ease

in light frocks they walk the streets

to while the time away.

They have grown tall. They hold

pink flames in their right hands.

In white from head to foot,

with sidelong, idle look--

in yellow, floating stuff,

black sash and stockings--

touching their avid mouths

with pink sugar on a stick--

like a carnation each holds in her hand--

they mount the lonely street.

Sources:

Public domain text taken from The Poets’ Corner:
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/wcw-sg3.html#50

CST Approved.

I'm walking down the very street,
The one I thought where we'd never meet.

I've walked alone for oh so long,
That I forgot where I belong.

The truth is only in my brain,
That's where I like to keep the pain

The only other is another,
I bring the truth, oh what a bother.

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