Vachel Lindsay

What the Rattlesnake Said

The moon’s a little prairie-dog.
He shivers through the night.
He sits upon his hill and cries
For fear that I will bite.
 
The sun’s a broncho. He’s afraid
Like every other thing,
And trembles, morning, noon and night,
Lest I should spring, and sting.
Otras obras de Vachel Lindsay...



Arriba