poem index

poet

Adelaide Crapsey

by this poet

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! 
poem
Listen. . .
With faint dry sound, 
Like steps of passing ghosts, 
The leaves, frost-crisp'd, break from the trees 
And fall.