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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Max Michelson

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

Midnight

Max Michelson

From “May in the City”

MIDNIGHT. The air is still,

And yet there seems to be a sound

Brooding in it, tearing. I hear it

With all my quivering body

But not with my ears.

Suddenly it bursts—muffled, hoarse, detached

From any earthly object.

It is spring

Charging through the night.