The Intruder
Across my book your hand augustly reaches —
Thrusts it away.
I turn impatient to the window, watching
The tossed trees’ play,
March sunshine glinting on a chilly rain-pool
That snow-banks frame.
A lusty wind comes gusting on its errand
And names your name.
Captive, defeated, having striven I yield me
To thought awhile;
Letting the sunlight on the roughened waters
Bear me your smile;
Hearing the mischief-making wind that named you
Question afresh
If spirit find in spirit full contentment
Only through flesh.
~~
Grace Stone Coates (1881-1976)
from Poetry, 1921
[Poem is in the public domain in the United States]
Grace Stone Coates biography
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