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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Maurice Lesemann

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

No Poem

Maurice Lesemann

From “Brushwood”

I READ my poem over again and threw it away

In the park where the elms brood.

The old man who spears old papers on a spit

And tucks them into his brown gunny-sack,

Will make an end of it.

Then, after he has stood

Awhile, he will go off, shouldering his brown

Bag, and shuffle out of sight;

A brown leaf drifting into the gray twilight

That the bushes make about him, folding down—

A better poem than I can hope to write.