Alfred Kreymborg, ed. Others for 1919. 1920.
Jeanne d’Orge
Annabel
A
who keeps my house, who bears me docile children.
When Annabel forgets that her smiles are mine
a bolt slips—
In a wild-flower garden a humming-bird woman
darts and flits.
To move would mean the flash of wings
and silence—
When she forgets that sorrow must be shared with me
mist clears—
A grave young man kneels at an altar…
Her eyes burn past me ever longing, ever seeking…
When she forgets herself and me in sleep
she lies with baby-lids half open.
I see a shining stretch of sea … fierce blue…
a slim brown shape … dancing feet of rapture.
This is that one whose voice I heard once in a dream.
This is that one whom to possess I married Annabel.
This is that one whom to escape Annabel married me.