I am at the door of the Closed Room,
I stand without, whispering and chatting to myself, in many fantastic attitudes, like gnomes that skulk in castle-moats.
There are finger-marks on the door knob—
Many, many have gone in, no one ever came out.
Through chinks I hear vague rumors, or is it the echo of the blood in my arteries?
And my eyes have spied, as I think, a light falling through cracks in the wall, or is it only the reflection of brain-sparks on the polished wood?
I finger the old worn knob, but am not yet admitted.
Publication History
- The Shadow-Eater [1915/17 and 1923]
- “Selections from New Books,” The Poetry Journal, Nov. 1915, Vol. IV No. 3, pp. 101-102
- Tag: Benjamin De Casseres
From The Shadow-Eater (Boni)
1923 Edition Text Changes
- attitudes, like gnomes > attitudes, ⁋ Like gnomes
- the wall, or is it > the wall, ⁋ Or is it
