Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
MiniaturesLouis Grudin
T
When there is peace,
Pale glory in the mist,
White waterfall of granite
From heaven.
Have you ever seen the wind
Ruffle the rivers of people,
Down in the bottoms
Of streets?
There were white petals, millions of them,
Fluttering over the water, to the very edge of our ship,
From the moon.
Have you no pity for me,
Who have found
A little beauty?
How many stars, how many
Cities,
Will you blow out with your breath
When you come to me?
I squandered
All I had; I wanted to live. Now nothing
Is left me.
With my own hands
I blotted out the sun.
God is a satirist.
All my beautiful moments
I give away,
But the shadows in me
Are dumb.