Classic Poem

Small barking sounds
Clatter of metal in a pan
A high fretting voice
and a low voice musical
as a string twanged —

The tempo is evenly drawn
give and take
A splash of water, the
ting a ring
of small pieces of metal
dropped, the clap of a door
A tune nameless as Time —

Then the voices —
Sound of feet barely moving
Slowly
And the bark, " What? "
" The same, the same, the — "
scrape of a chair
clickaty tee —

" Over Labor Day they'll
be gone "
" Jersey City, he's the
engineer — " " Ya "
" Being on the Erie R. R.
is quite convenient "

" No, I think they're — "
" I think she is. I think — "
" German-American "
" Of course the Govern — "
. . . . . . .

A distant door slammed.