The Street Behind the Elms by Myra Morris

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Tall houses built of ugly brick
   Stand squeezed together in a row  
Along the dull, suburban street
   Where roaring trucks and tram-cars go
And people swinging shopper's bags
   On hollow heels pass to and fro.

The elms beside the paving stones
   Beside the gutters swept and clean,
Have put on sticky garnet buds
   And whorls of pallid, chalky green;  
And threads of jade and amber run  
   Where boughs as bare as bones have been.

Between the elms shop-windows show
   Humdrum with shoes and soap and cakes,
But when the wind uncoils itself
   From dusty little nooks and shakes
Upon the air a lovely gale
   Of flurrying green and gauzy flakes.

The street takes on a magic look
   Behind that airy dancing veil.
The tall, drab buildings move in mist,
   Their shadowy walls rose-tinged and frail,
And all the people passing by
   Are people in a fairy-tale.

First published in The Sydney Morning Herald, 11 November 1944

Author reference sites: AustlitAustralian Dictionary of Biography

See also.

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on November 11, 2014 7:43 AM.

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