Poetaster - Hand That Pen Over
Daily selections of poetry, curated for your ruminating pleasure.
Showing posts with label
ebb
.
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Showing posts with label
ebb
.
Show all posts
Thursday, June 4, 2015
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.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay
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