Author Wallace Stevens I am what is around me. Women understand this. One is not duchess A hundred yards from a carriage. These, then are portraits: A black vestibule; A high bed sheltered by curtains. These are merely instances. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments