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No Poem  (1920) 
by Maurice Lesemann
from Poetry, April 1920


No Poem[]

Writer in the Park. Sculpture by David Annand, 2005. Photo by Thomas Nugent. Licensed under Creative Commons, courtesy Geograph.org.

Writer in the Park. Sculpture by David Annand, 2005. Photo by Thomas Nugent. Licensed under Creative Commons, courtesy Geograph.org.


I read my poem over again and threw it away
In the park where the elms brood.
The old man who spears old papers on a spit
And tucks them into his brown gunny-sack,
Will make an end of it.
 
Then, after he has stood
Awhile, he will go off, shouldering his brown
Bag, and shuffle out of sight;
A brown leaf drifting into the gray twilight
That the bushes make about him, folding down —
A better poem than I can hope to write.

See also[]

This poem is in the public domain