Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, EFFINGHAM NIGHT, by JAMES MONAHAN


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

EFFINGHAM NIGHT, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The moon has put her garment of white madness
Last Line: As hands, grown vague, drop listless to my side.
Subject(s): Moon; Night; Silence; Bedtime


THE moon has put her garment of white madness
upon this night, upon this shining common
that a leaning mist has slurred. Far nightingales
are ceaseless. Trees are a sinister net,
hiding attainable skies; and crickets near
suddenly sing against the nightingales ...

while all their sound is deep in the quietness,
in the quietness turning. And I am filled with it,
made great with its grandeur, omnisciently clear.
I tower to the stature of the night,
steadily watching the moon-steel pillars rise
to the velvet ceiling of this cathedraled world.

Comes the seed of rage, swells, bursts — my furious fist
is stark and black and high against the moon;
and "Heart," I shout, "of this great stillness, know
I have touched the summits of your mystery.
I have seen you all."
The inevitable drooping,
the failure and folly come. The moment passes
as hands, grown vague, drop listless to my side.





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