<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428446" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Garden In Chicago</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the mid-city, under an oiled sky,<br>I lay in a garden of such dusky green<br>It seemed the dregs of the imagination.<br>Hedged round by elegant spears of iron fence<br>My face became a moon to absent suns.<br>A low heat beat upon my reading face;<br>There rose no roses in that gritty place<br>But blue-gray lilacs hung their tassels out.<br>Hard zinnias and ugly marigolds<br>And one sweet statue of a child stood by.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A gutter of poetry flowed outside the yard,<br>Making me think I was a bird of prose;<br>For overhead, bagged in a golden cloud,<br>There hung the fatted souls of animals,<br>Wile at my eyes bright dots of butterflies<br>Turned off and on like distant neon signs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Assuming that this garden still exists,<br>One ancient lady patrols the zinnias<br>(She looks like George Washington crossing the Delaware),<br>The janitor wanders to the iron rail,<br>The traffic mounts bombastically out there,<br>And across the street in a pitch-black bar<br>With midnight mirrors, the professional<br>Takes her first whiskey of the afternoon--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! It is like a breath of country air.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Karl+Shapiro">Karl Shapiro</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=428446" data-title="A Garden In Chicago de Karl Shapiro" data-description="In the mid-city, under an oiled sky, I lay in a garden of such dusky green It seemed the dregs of the imagination. Hedged round by elegant spears of iron fence My face became a moon to absent suns. A low heat beat upon my reading face; There rose ..."></div> </div> </div>

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