The Shadow Poem by Rose Macaulay

There was a shadow on the moon; I saw it poise and tilt and go
Its lonely way, and so I know that the blue velvet night will soon
Blaze loud and bright, as if the stars were crashing right into the town,
And tumbling street and houses down, and smashing people like wine-jars….


Fear wakes:
What then?
Strayed shows of the Fear that breaks
The world’s young men.


Bright fingers point all round the sky; they point and grope and cannot find.
(God’s hand, you’d think, and he gone blind..) ….the queer white faces twist and cry.
Last time they came they messed our square, and left it a hot rubbish-heap,
With people sunk in it so deep, you could not even hear them swear.


Fire blinds.
What then?
Pale shadows of the Pain that grinds
The worlds young men.


The weak blood running down the street, oh, does it run like fire, like wine?
And are the spilt brains so keen, so fine, crushed limbs so swift, dead dreams so sweet!
There is a Plain where limbs and dreams and brains to see the world a-fire
Lie tossed in sodden heaps of mire…. Crash! Tonight’s show
Begins, it seems.


Death….Well,
what then?
Rim of the shadows of Hell
Of the worlds young men.