This poem describes a lonely, empty scene. An empty coat sways in the wind like a man relying on something absent inside him. A fence sags like fading hope. The twisting gate shrieks as the shops that used to be are now gone. It is only the breeze fretting amongst stiff thistles that remain upright all winter, though appearing dead. If these are the only things, what wild imagination blows through the speaker's mind?
This poem describes a lonely, empty scene. An empty coat sways in the wind like a man relying on something absent inside him. A fence sags like fading hope. The twisting gate shrieks as the shops that used to be are now gone. It is only the breeze fretting amongst stiff thistles that remain upright all winter, though appearing dead. If these are the only things, what wild imagination blows through the speaker's mind?
This poem describes a lonely, empty scene. An empty coat sways in the wind like a man relying on something absent inside him. A fence sags like fading hope. The twisting gate shrieks as the shops that used to be are now gone. It is only the breeze fretting amongst stiff thistles that remain upright all winter, though appearing dead. If these are the only things, what wild imagination blows through the speaker's mind?