Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Hag-hollerin TimeHervey Allen
From “The Sea-islands”
B
Behind Jim Island, lying long and dim,
An infra owl-light tinged the twilight sky
As if a bonfire burned for cherubim.
Dark orange flames came leering through the pines;
And then the moon’s face, struggling with a sneeze,
Along the flat horizon’s level lines
Her nostrils fingered with palmetto trees.
Old Julius gave appreciative chuckle—
“It’s jes about hag-hollerin’ time,” he said.
I watched the globous buckeyes in his head
Peer back along the bloody moon-wash dim
To see the fish-tailed water-witches swim.