THE FASHIONABLE HOUR
by: Orrick Johns (1887-1946)
 HE window
flames no longer clamber
- Like gonfalons against the sky,
- And faintly blue-green grows the camber
- Of her thigh.
-
- The febrile radiance left of day
- Creeps through the forest of her passion,
- And riant in the dusk I stay
- A man of fashion ...
-
- Her cigarette, avid of design,
- Is one still spark by shadow pressed,
- And like a moon beneath, benign,
- Glimmers her breast.
|
"The Fashionable Hour"
is reprinted from Black Branches. Orrick Johns. New York:
Pagan Publishing Company, 1920. |
MORE
POEMS BY ORRICK JOHNS |
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