Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
The AdversaryMax Michelson
From “Winds of March”
C
A little blacker than a shadow.
I have to push him from them.
That’s why my kisses
Are so gentle.
Do you feel his scales as I?
Perhaps that’s why we kiss at all—
I know so little.