There has been no sound of guns,
no roar of exploding bombs;
but the darkness has an edge
that grits the nerves of the sleeper.
nothing disturbs the stillness,
save perhaps the light, slow flap,
once only, of the curtain
dim in the darkness.
Yet there is something else
that drags him from his bed;
and he stands in the darkness
with his feet cold against the floor
and the cold air round his ankles.
[ . . . ]
F.S. Flint's poem "Searchlight" was published in the 1917 Some Imagist Poets anthology. To read this poem in digitized versions of this publication, follow the links below:
The Modernist Journals Project