Nets to Catch the Wind

<h3> <SPAN name="trolley"></SPAN> A CROWDED TROLLEY CAR<br/> </h3> <p class="poem"> The rain's cold grains are silver-gray<br/> Sharp as golden sands,<br/> A bell is clanging, people sway<br/> Hanging by their hands.<br/></p> <p class="poem"> Supple hands, or gnarled and stiff,<br/> Snatch and catch and grope;<br/> That face is yellow-pale, as if<br/> The fellow swung from rope.<br/></p> <p class="poem"> Dull like pebbles, sharp like knives,<br/> Glances strike and glare,<br/> Fingers tangle, Bluebeard's wives<br/> Dangle by the hair.<br/></p> <p class="poem"> Orchard of the strangest fruits<br/> Hanging from the skies;<br/> Brothers, yet insensate brutes<br/> Who fear each others' eyes.<br/></p> <p class="poem"> One man stands as free men stand,<br/> As if his soul might be<br/> Brave, unbroken; see his hand<br/> Nailed to an oaken tree.<br/></p> <p><br/><br/><br/></p> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />