Dora Sigerson Shorter

“ THE HUMAN TOUCH
She made roses all the day for pretty ladies' wear,
⁠All through the patient hours, half into the night.
Dragged into a hurried knot all her dusty hair,
⁠Eyes foolish with fatigue, straining to the light.
Pretty ladies roamed away over land and sea,
⁠Talked on foreign boulevard, laughed in gay bazaar ”