| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | The Strange Load | | By Marx G. Sabel |
| | From “Annotations”
THINGS have come to a fine pass! | |
| Just now, | |
| As I sat teasing shy thoughts, | |
| A strange load lifted | |
| Of its own volition! | 5 |
| |
| Maybe I should make a moan, | |
| Or gurgle in my throat a bit, | |
| On losing suddenly | |
| And for no apparent reason | |
| The strange load— | 10 |
| The little weight of chosen sorrowings, | |
| The small warm woes of love. | |
| Little lady whom my heart has nurtured, | |
| The pressure of your petulance | |
| Has passed; | 15 |
| Your eyes’ chatoyancy | |
| In the deep dark night of my heart’s heart | |
| Has faded, | |
| And the phosphorescent glimmers of your body | |
| In the center of my mind | 20 |
| Have faded. | |
| |
| Faded … lifted … faded … | |
| Entirely done away with. | |
| |
| Shall I miss the strange load lifted, | |
| Having carried it so far, | 25 |
| So long, with such great care? | |
| |
| Now I arise from a cramped posture, | |
| Now I slowly swing my shoulders back | |
| And take a deep breath! | |
| |
| Now I shatter heights of thin air, | 30 |
| Stretching forth rejuvenescent fingers! | |
| |
| Yes … surely … | |
| Things have come to a fine pass, | |
| A fine pass, indeed. | | | | |
|
|
