Explore "Orchards" by Theodosia Pickrering Garrison on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Orchards in the Spring-time! Oh, I think and think of them, -- / Filmy mists of pink and white above the fresh, young green, / Lifting and drifting, -- how my eyes could drink of them, / "I'm staring at a dirty wall beyond a big machine."
Orchards in the Spring-time! Deep in soft, cool shadows, -- / Moving all together when the west wind blows / Fragrance upon fragrance over road and meadows -- / "I'm smelling heat and oil and sweat, and thick, black clothes."
Orchards in the Spring-time! The clean white and pink of them / Lifting and drifting with all the winds that blow. / Orchards in the Spring-time! Thank God I still can think of them! / "You're not docked for thinking, -- if the foreman doesn't know."