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by Edna St. Vincent Millay
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
You are betrayed. . . . Here is no treasure hid,
No cauldron, no clear crystal mirroring
The sought-for truth, no heads of women slain
For greed like yours, no writhings of distress,
But only what you see. . . . Look yet again --
An empty room, cobwebbed and comfortless.
Yet this alone out of my life I kept
Unto myself, lest any know me quite;
And you did so profane me when you crept
Unto the threshold of this room to-night
That I must never more behold your face.
This now is yours. I seek another place.
Poetry Friday roundup at Yat-Yee Chong's.
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.
By: Rebecca,
on 6/29/2007
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Rebecca OUP-US
Below is a poem by Buffalo Poet King Otho. Let him know what you think in the comments.
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This now is yours. I seek another place.......
Imagining myself having to say that to someone, and feeling very sad.
Very powerfully sad...
Wow.
Bluebeard was always one of my very favorite tales ... I remember reading it for the first time, ten or eleven or twelve, in this thick red book of fairy tales at my grandma's house. That's probably why.
I'd never read the Millay, though. Thanks!
Ouch.
I like this...
Laying boundaries is really hard for some people, but this is an awesome way of saying, "Okay, fine, this is yours -- I'm gone."