The winter evening settles down 

  with smell of steaks in passageways 

  Six o”clock. 

  The burnt-out ends of smoky days. 

  And now a gusty shower wraps 

  The grimy scraps 

  Of withered leaves about your feet 

  And newspapers from vacant lots; 

  The showers beat 

  On broken blinds and chimney-pots, 

  And at the corner of the street 

  A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps. 

  And then the lighting of the lamps.