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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Loureine Aber

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Old Man

Loureine Aber

From “City Lanes”

DAWN sprang wildly to her lips,

And the little hard breasts burst as a waterfall over the rocks.

I, the dark pine at the precipice edge,

Lunged and was still;

Then swiftly, as wild birds go to the kill,

Toppled, and ran with her youth to the sea.

They said I was wanton and cruel

To have taken her youth at the height,

To have matched the great might

Of my years

With her slender beauty and tremulous fears.

I tell you, I lunged and was still;

Then swiftly, as wild birds go to the kill,

Toppled, and ran with her youth to the sea….

Pity me!