Friday, April 3, 2015

Vernal Equinox

The scent of hyacinths, like a pale mist, lies
   between me and my book;
And the South Wind, washing through the room,
Makes the candles quiver.
My nerves sting at a spatter of rain on the shutter,
And I am uneasy with the thrusting of green shoots        
Outside, in the night.

Why are you not here to overpower me with your
   tense and urgent love?





Amy Lowell, 1874 - 1925

5 comments:

  1. Lovely poem, Josh. I have her "The Complete Poetical Works" with still so many yet to read. :)

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  2. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing this.

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  3. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/238094

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  4. Oh that is beautiful! Thank you! Because of you the door to poetry is now open again!

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