Bringing some Maine flavor to the blog today, I would like to force everyone to read this itsy bitsy little poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay. It won't take more than a minute, so why not ponder the truly pretty way she puts words together. I'm a big fan of single-image poems. I like how this poem, Ebb, prefigures the imagists that would come by so soon after Millay rose to prominence. That... and it's just pretty.
Ebb
I know what my heart is like
Since your love died:
It is like a hollow ledge
Holding a little pool
Left there by the tide,
A little tepid pool,
Drying inward from the edge.
(i know i lost the formatting. i don't know how to do anything about it. ugh.)
No comments:
Post a Comment