Angelique


A flickering light near spent
Her pale hand bore.

Have you seen Angelique?
Will she know the place
Dead feet must find,
The grave-cloth on her face
To make her blind?

Have you seen Angelique. .
At night I hear her moan,
And I shiver in my bed;
She wanders all alone,
She cannot find the dead.

by Adelaide Crapsey

Other poems of CRAPSEY (99)

Comments (1)

This poem is fairly nightmarish without rattling a chain or something jumping out of the shadows. That means she selected her words very well. {{{{ Shiver}}}}