poem index

Triad

Adelaide Crapsey
These be 
three silent things: 
The falling snow . . . the hour 
Before the dawn . . . the mouth of one 
Just dead.

This poem is in the public domain.

Adelaide Crapsey

by this poet

poem
Written in a Moment of Exasperation

How can you lie so still? All day I watch 
And never a blade of all the green sod moves 
To show where restlessly you toss and turn, 
And fling a desperate arm or draw up knees 
Stiffened and aching from their long disuse; 
I watch all night and not one ghost comes
poem
I know 
Not these my hands 
And yet I think there was 
A woman like me once had hands 
Like these. 
poem
If it 
Were lighter touch 
Than petal of flower resting 
On grass, oh still too heavy it were, 
Too heavy!