January Morning / Michael Strange

January Morning

I 

How grey the city day!
How heavy with despair,
The very hush of wind
Is imminent with care.
O! how my spirit fits
The pressure of this sigh
And groans beneath a wish
To vacillate and die!


II 

A morning when 'tis dull to live,
And still more dull to die;
A morning when 'tis sad to laugh
And more sad still to cry;
A morning that is grey with mist
And heavy with the rain.
As if the air were drenched in tears
Upon a wind of pain.

~~
Michael Strange (1890-1950)
from Miscellaneous Poems, 1916

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]

Michael Strange biography