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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  D. H. Lawrence

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Weariness

D. H. Lawrence

WHY does the thin gray strand

Floating up from the forgotten

Cigarette between my fingers—

Why does it trouble me?

Ah, you will understand!

When I carried my mother downstairs,

A few times only, at the beginning

Of her soft-foot malady,

I should find for a reprimand

To my gayety, a long gray hair

On the breast of my coat, and I let it float,

Gray strand, towards the dark chimney.