Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
The Hurricane
By Baker Brownell
 
From “In Barracks”

THE WIND soured into night.
Acid of a narrow rain
Pitted the sentries’ paces
With spits of cold.
 
The wind grew in hoarse breaths        5
With the night’s age,
Until the night was wind,
And darkness spouted on the prone earth
From the West’s nozzle.
 
Wind and night, roaring        10
Like mated beasts,
Pressed huge bodies
On the bulging walls
Of tied Sibley tents.
 
One by one the double-headed pegs        15
Pulled with a souseling kiss
From the rain-weak earth.
 
A rope snapped; a wall flap
Jumped; the tent heaved,
Bulged upward        20
With scared awkwardness,
And fell on a broken tripod.
 
The wind, night, rain,
With huge onwardness,
West, south, east, north, poured itself        25
Bitterly on the flat earth.
 
Three Nature-whipped sentries,
Tied into their ponchos,
Pried through the heaving night
Like tired swimmers.        30
 
 
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