Robert Lowell: Skunk Hour

I was captivated by this poem. There is a sense throughout the entire poem that you are standing on the edge of the end. The narrater describes a pleasent location, but you can easily decipher that things are changing. There are no longer lovers parked at the top of the hill, or shops open along the main strip. The poem is named approipriatly, because it would seem the skunk and her kittens are the only ones left who still care.