NO matter what I say,
All that I really love
Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie on the beach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Child me, banished to edge of Vermont, dealing alone with the death of my father-- well. You can imagine i was not an easy kid to be around!
A lot of her poems deal with death. A lot of them talk about a landscape I knew in my blood. And, reading her, I believed I could write too.
Today was a trying day. 100f-- I kid you not. And son and I both had surprise root canals. (The kind where the dentist looks in your mouth and says 'hmmm--' and clears a larger block of time than he had intended.
i wish it were October-- with a brisk wind, and the ocean as warm as it will get. I wish I was in the surf.
One more by Millay--
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Shifting Sands Challenge Title: Toast and Foghorns Author Eglantine_br Rating G Toast and Foghorns “Mommy does it a different way, she uses the…
This is something from my hometown paper. Thought it might be of interest. The Elizabeth Islands are mostly uninhabited now, but they have the most…