adelaide crapsey

Amaze

I know
Not these my hands
And yet I think there was
A woman like me once had hands
Like these.


Night Winds
The old
Old winds that blew
When chaos was, what do
They tell the clattered trees that I
Should weep?


The Warning
Just now,
Out of the strange
Still dusk...as strange, as still...
A white moth flew. Why am I grown
So cold?



SAYING OF IL HABOUL
Guardian of the Treasure of Solomon
And Keeper of the Prophet's Armour
My tent
A vapour that
The wind dispels and but
As dust before the wind am I
Myself.