Hart Crane
Hart Crane, 1899-1932

The Fernery

The lights that travel on her spectacles
Seldom, now, meet a mirror in her eyes.
But turning, as you may chance to live a shade
Beside her and her fernery, is to follow
The zigzags fast around dry lips composed
To darkness through a wreath of sudden pain.

–So, while fresh sunlight splinters humid green
I have known myself a nephew to confusions
That sometimes take up residence and reign
In crowns less grey–O merciless tidy hair!

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“The Fernery” was first published in September 1922
It also appeared in Crane’s 1926 collection White Buildings

For an index of Hart Crane poems in the Crisis Chronicles Online Library, click here.

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