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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Josephine Pinckney

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

Strange

Josephine Pinckney

WE believed

That the tides of our being

Set to each other.

But when we came to speak,

There was a distance between us

More wide and strange

Than the silvery waste

Of the marsh under the moon.

And your voice came

From that untrodden stillness

Like the calling of some marsh creature

Disturbed—seeking.

And I, too, was dumb—frozen,

Like the flood-tide

And moon-silent marsh.