| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Endymion | | By John Crawford |
| | From “Night”
THE UNIVERSE | |
| Crumbles away, | |
| Crawls away … | |
| |
| A simoon | |
| Keyed down, | 5 |
| Hushed away | |
| To whispers…. | |
| |
| (Trickling, trickling— | |
| Bare legs— | |
| Impacts of sand-grains— | 10 |
| Impacts of girls’ eyes—) | |
| |
| Up to my knees … | |
| |
| (Isolation | |
| Of flesh from flesh— | |
| Slippery, gritty, | 15 |
| Hands grip and slide, | |
| Fingers roll | |
| On my face—) | |
| |
| Knee deep, | |
| Waist deep, | 20 |
| Eyes prickling … | |
| |
| (It was my gift | |
| To catch their eyes, | |
| Catch and hold their eyes: | |
| She knew that, | 25 |
| But She could not blind | |
| All their eyes—) | |
| |
| Waist-deep— | |
| Up to my arm-pits…. | |
| |
| (She found one | 30 |
| Could keep my arms knit— | |
| Body like a panther, | |
| That one—) | |
| |
| Up to my eyes— | |
| Sleep slides | 35 |
| Grain by grain…. | |
| |
| (What She did to you | |
| No one knows…. | |
| She’ll never kill the feel of you | |
| With Her sand—) | 40 |
| |
| Crumbling, | |
| Crawling, | |
| Creeping— | |
| Ring about my neck … | |
| |
| (Yours— | 45 |
| Your hands at my throat— | |
| Your lips—) | | | | |
|
|
