Green-cawn-n-n-n!

Along the quiet city streets

     The hawker wends his way.

He loudly cries his green supplies

     From dawn till close of day.

How often has he wearied us,

     Till on this early morn,

When on his round he made resound:

     “Greencawn-n-n! Greencawn-n-n-n!!”

Away with huckleberries now

     Away with peaches, too;

Away with cantaloupes and pears

     And berries black and blue!

Thrice welcome now the huckster’s voice

     Though be it close to dawn;

How sweetly falls each plaintive call.

     “Green-cawn-n-n-n! Green-cawn-n-n-n!”

July 29, ‘09