| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | Wind and Moonlight | | By Viola I. Paradise |
| | From “Weather Whims”
THE WIND’S a brute, a monster, | |
| Shrieking and yelling about my house; | |
| Tearing at the walls with frantic iron claws. | |
| Striking with frenzied panicked paws | |
| At my windows. | 5 |
| I’m glad it has no mind | |
| As it freaks about my room | |
| Rattling every loose thing. | |
| And I’m glad I’m in bed, | |
| Safe from its maniac mood. | 10 |
| |
| Now it sucks my curtains out of the window | |
| And beats them against the side of the house | |
| And tears them. | |
| |
| I must get up and rescue the curtains. | |
| |
| At the window—incredible!— | 15 |
| The full moon, | |
| Large, | |
| In a naked sky, | |
| Looks down serenely on the anguished trees— | |
| The stiff creaking branches, the scurrying leaves, | 20 |
| Helpless, undignified, in frightened flight. | |
| That monstrous moon, | |
| That great, strong, big full moon | |
| Who sways a million tides with a little gesture— | |
| That powerful, insolent moon— | 25 |
| Looks down, and tolerates the wind! | |
| Bald sluggard moon!—lets the mad wind rage, | |
| Countenances it! | |
| Sheds shameless light on all its obscene passions! | |
| |
| God, I could hate the moon for this! | 30 |
| Is there no limit to indecency? | | | | |
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