Explore "Flat Suburbs, S.W., In The Morning" by D.H. Lawrence on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE new red houses spring like plants / In level rows / Of reddish herbage that bristles and slants / Its square shadows.
The pink young houses show one side bright / Flatly assuming the sun, / And one side shadow, half in sight, / Half-hiding the pavement-run;
Where hastening creatures pass intent / On their level way, / Threading like ants that can never relent / And have nothing to say.
Bare stems of street-lamps stiffly stand / At random, desolate twigs, / To testify to a blight on the land / That has stripped their sprigs.