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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Mark Turbyfill

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

My Heart, Like Hyacinth

Mark Turbyfill

OH, Grief is not so near to tears

As I!

Hurting me more than chord-pain—

The thought of you,

Quiet, alone,

Lovely as a watered reed,

Resting in the straightness

Of your cool white bed.

For I, storm-shattered and sick,

Lie here flushed, hard-breathing.

Oh, Grief is not so near to tears

As I!