Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay
The light comes back with Columbine; she brings
A touch of this, a little touch of that,
Coloured confetti, and a favour hat,
Patches, and powder, dolls that work by strings
And moons that work by switches, all the things
That please a sick man's fancy, and a flat
Spry convalescent kiss, and a small pat
Upon the pillow, paper offerings.
The light goes out with her; the shadows sprawl.
Where she has left her fragrance like a shawl
I lie alone and pluck the counterpane,
Or on a dizzy elbow rise and hark
And down like dominoes along the dark
Her little silly laughter spills again!