Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly weathers down, far Underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
That August should be levelled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.
~Edna St. Vincent Millay
Poetry Friday roundup at Kelly's.
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Blog: Miss Erin (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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by Edna St. Vincent Millay
The railroad track is miles away,
And the day is loud with voices speaking,
Yet there isn't a train goes by all day
But I hear its whistle shrieking.
All night there isn't a train goes by,
Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming
But I see its cinders red on the sky,
And hear its engine steaming.
My heart is warm with friends I make,
And better friends I'll not be knowing,
Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take,
No matter where it's going.
Poetry Friday roundup at Farm School
0 Comments on Travel as of 1/18/2008 1:54:00 PM
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That's beautiful. :)
wow, that's lovely.
Oh that is sad. But lovely.
=)
(I can't really think of anything else to say, but I wanted to write something.)
What a hauntingly beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing it.
I love your blog, by the way, and just added it to my blogroll.
-Susan
can't believe you read Out of the Wild..... *smiles*
Ooh, zat's amazing. :D