Poetry of Kansas

Division

You have the place, and I my due;
But is that all? You never knew,
      The night that Father left his chair
      To join Her, I stripped each thing bare
That spoke of them, and left no clew.
 
You have the soil, which to subdue
They wrung youth dry, and drank of rue.
      I have those years; I shall not share.
            You have the place.
 
I have the moan of night winds through
The beanpatch tree; a boy's sharp view
      On a thousand scenes, from the stoop, I bear.
      You have mute wood and meaningless wear.
I have the soul of the place, and you,__
            You have the place.

__William P. McKenna.

Contemporary Kansas Poetry
Helen Rhoda Hoopes
page 83
(Kansas City: Joseph D. Havens Company. 1927)

 
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