Matins

    The crust of sleep is broken
Abruptly—
I look drowsily
Through the wide crack.
I do not know whether I see
Three minds, bird-shaped,
Flashing upon the bough of morning;
Or three delicately tinted souls
Butterflying in the sun;
Or three brown-fleshed, husky children
Sprawling hilarious
Over my bed
And me.

Credit

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on August 25, 2024, by the Academy of American Poets.

About this Poem

“Matins” appeared in Poetry: A Magazine in Verse, Vol. 10, No. 5 in August 1917. In Poetry’s Vol. 11, No. 5 issue, the editors reviewed Others: An Anthology of the New Verse (Alfred A. Knopf, 1917), edited by Alfred Kreymborg, and claimed, “We are glad Marianne Moore’s There is a great amount of poetry in unconscious fastidiousness was included in this book. It is a fascinating thing, and unlike anyone but Marianne Moore, as all her poems are. But some of her pieces are too compact and keentoo ‘fastidious’for comfort. Jeanne D’Orge also is distinct, never echoes, and while seemingly at opposite poles in temperament and style from Marianne Moore, these two have in common a satirical power and humor; in which Mina Loy shares.”