Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
Wind-blownMuna Lee
From “Songs of Many Moods”
I
MRooted like the tree,
Like the tree reaches out yearning arms
Clutching at the wind.
Out of a universe of things
Two only
Give me any measure of peace:
Rain
That shuts you out,
And wind
That bears me away.
If for one hour,
One hour when the sunset is live gold,
I might be a little wind
Running with gray feet along the edge of the world,
Could I not forget
For one hour?