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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  John Crawford

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

Nadir

John Crawford

From “Night”

I AM part of lonely things

Of this lonely city …

…………

A gold fish in a bowl,

Lowered into a lake,

Would feel the sleeping presence of fish

Even as I

Feel life withdrawn, suspended….

An immanence of life,

Like a remembered song of violins

And oboes

After a dance.

…………

Even the sound of my footsteps

Dies in the snow.