Author Adelaide Crapsey JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as still . . . A white moth flew . . . Why am I grown So cold? Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 Average: 3.9 (9 votes) Rate Reviews Post review No reviews yet. Log in or register to post comments