| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | A Man to a Dead Woman | | By Maxwell Bodenheim |
| | From “Charcoals”
A CHILD half-sleepily piecing together bits of paper, | |
| I draw close the remnants of my mind. | |
| And when they are quite together, the lack of you blows them apart. | |
| My spirit, curving as a pliant, burdened tree, | |
| Sitting with your spirit, and plaiting the shadows of its hair, | 5 |
| Does not see the child and his labors. | |
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| I do not know whether to be joy-white with my spirit, | |
| Or rent-gray with the blown remnants of my mind. | | | | |
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