Horses and Men in the Rain
Let us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter's day, gray wind
pattering frozen raindrops on the window,
And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys.
Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches--and talk
about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy
Let us write of olden, golden days and hunters of the Holy Grail
and men called "knights" riding horses in the rain, in the cold
frozen rain for ladies they loved.
A roustabout hunched on a coal wagon goes by, icicles drip on his
hat rim, sheets of ice wrapping the hunks of coal, the caravanserai
a gray blur in slant of rain.
Let us nudge the steam radiator with our wool slippers and write
poems of Launcelot, the hero, and Roland, the hero, and all
the olden golden men who rode horses in the rain.