| At ten A.M. the young housewife |
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| moves about in negligee behind |
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| the wooden walls of her husband's house. |
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| I pass solitary in my car. |
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| |
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| Then again she comes to the curb |
5 |
| to call the ice-man, fish-man, and stands |
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| shy, uncorseted, tucking in |
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| stray ends of hair, and I compare her |
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| to a fallen leaf. |
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| |
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| The noiseless wheels of my car |
10 |
| rush with a crackling Sound over |
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| dried leaves as I bow and pass smiling. |
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