PredictionAuthor(s): Morris GilbertSource: Poetry, Vol. 20, No. 4 (Jul., 1922), p. 200Published by: Poetry FoundationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20573661 .

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POETRY: id Magazine of Verse

PREDICTION

In some inimical starry night When the worthies are abed, Suddenly will come a flight Of baleful things about your head. These will not be simply bats (These, imponderable as leaves), These will not be timid gnats These will be audacious thieves:

Devils of the midnight's action, Wrong ones of the twisted spheres, A fluttering unholy faction Of Port Havoc mutineers.

In your spirit's corridors There will, that night, be strange things: What were dances will be wars, There will be vain imaginings Slaughter and knavery and laughter, Sights to make a man afraid, Boozing, cajoling, boasts, and after (I need not say) you'll be betrayed. . ..

Since the story is so bitter The quaint world will find its proofs What is left of you will flitter Like a grey cat on the roofs.

Morris Gilbert

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