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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MINOR MISHAP, by HORTENSE KING FLEXNER
First Line: Think of my death
Last Line: At a table set, whose meats he cannot reach.
Subject(s): Cold; Death; Dead, The
First Line: Think of my death
Last Line: At a table set, whose meats he cannot reach.
Subject(s): Cold; Death; Dead, The
Think of my death
As that of a fly
Caught between window and screen
On an autumn night.
Neither in or out,
He perishes of weakness
And hostile cold,
Looking through a barrier,
Perfect in perversity
At a glowing candle, whose warmth he cannot feel,
At a table set, whose meats he cannot reach.
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