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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  John Crawford

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

Endymion

John Crawford

From “Night”

THE UNIVERSE

Crumbles away,

Crawls away …

A simoon

Keyed down,

Hushed away

To whispers….

(Trickling, trickling—

Bare legs—

Impacts of sand-grains—

Impacts of girls’ eyes—)

Up to my knees …

(Isolation

Of flesh from flesh—

Slippery, gritty,

Hands grip and slide,

Fingers roll

On my face—)

Knee deep,

Waist deep,

Eyes prickling …

(It was my gift

To catch their eyes,

Catch and hold their eyes:

She knew that,

But She could not blind

All their eyes—)

Waist-deep—

Up to my arm-pits….

(She found one

Could keep my arms knit—

Body like a panther,

That one—)

Up to my eyes—

Sleep slides

Grain by grain….

(What She did to you

No one knows….

She’ll never kill the feel of you

With Her sand—)

Crumbling,

Crawling,

Creeping—

Ring about my neck …

(Yours—

Your hands at my throat—

Your lips—)