One Anguishin a Crowd

One Anguish—in a Crowd—
A Minor thing—it sounds—
And yet, unto the single Doe
Attempted of the Hounds

'Tis Terror as consummate
As Legions of Alarm
Did leap, full flanked, upon the Host—
'Tis Units—make the Swarm—

A Small Leech—on the Vitals—
The sliver, in the Lung—
The Bung out—of an Artery—
Are scarce accounted—Harms—

Yet might—by relation
To that Repealless thing—
A Being—impotent to end—
When once it has begun—

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Frank Watson's picture

Spooky imagery, the rhythm makes the reader focus on each image. The meaning is a bit obscure though. I take from it that she's comparing the fear of being in a crowd (or out in public) to a doe attacked by wild hounds. A bit melodramatic, but I still enjoyed the poem.

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