Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply....
Dear ghosts who tap and sigh upon the glass:
I get it. You are waiting for a reply. What do you want me to say? "Go to the light?" "Scooby-Doo, where are you?" "I see dead people?"
You poor lost souls: You've assembled the wrong cast. I can't give you those words. I have problems of my own.
So tap away. I like the sound of rain. I like the spirits it raises. I see girls floating popsicle sticks down streaming gutters. I see smiling, delighted desert-born faces staring up at the sky: What is this? Water? From heaven? Miraculous! So, yes, tap and sigh, tap and sigh. You don't scare me. I'm not afraid.
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16 comments:
"what lips my lips have kissed, and where and why"
I love that sonnet you excerpted--
the entire thing is so moving--
Go wise woman!
I was waiting for Wise Women Friday! I'm feeling a little irritable and trying not to attribute it to the grey skies. I know the indoor coziness won't be back for months and months once summer kicks in with full force. Maybe once my grades get turned in, my mood will change.
I love this rain because it's unexpected and we won't see it again till December. On the other hand, I don't want to join others out on the oil slick freeway. I'm procrastinating walking out the door. Bet theres a goddess for that
This was beautiful. I loved the part - "I see girls floating popsicle sticks down streaming gutters."
And, I agree, I love the sound of rain!
Dez: I like that sonnet too. I read a great biography of Millay a few years back, but I don't remember much except that she tried very hard to live a full and passionate life.
Bec: Me too! I'm grading all day tomorrow and then it will be summer!
PA: I'm with you. I will enjoy every minute of June gloom.
Lynne: The girls I see there are you and me.
God, I love her. Thanks for reminding me.
There sat my mother
With the harp against her shoulder
Looking nineteen
And not a day older,
A smile about her lips,
And a light about her head,
And her hands in the harp-strings
Frozen dead.
And piled up beside her
And toppling to the skies,
Were the clothes of a king's son,
Just my size.
AH: Wow.
Edna St. Vincent Millay was a very interesting character.
I love the girls and popsicle sticks.
Get poetic. Poems, sonnets please. You, Margaret with your popsicle sticks. Karin. Edna. I'm in a mood for poetry.
A-
A few weeks ago when the rain broke the drought in our region within a couple of hours of the skies opening, we lifted our smiling, delighted almost-desert-born faces to the sky and rejoiced; then a few hours later, girls were watching cars and houses floating down the streaming gutters, not popsicle sticks. {Not in our suburb, luckily, but in plenty of others.} Balance is a wonderful thing. {Ah, there's Nu Kua, waving to the passing boats from a nearby roof.}
Pup: You're tought.
Petrea: Glad to see that the muse struck you too.
Shell: That's a whole different kind of storm. How sad for those families. Yes, I guess balance is everything. Nu Kua has her work cut out for her.
My absolute favorite ESVM quote:
"I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one."
:) Lightening storms might be scary when I'm home alone and it's the wee hours of the morn, but we're in a drought and flowers need water to grow! So I guess I can put on a brave front for the posies.
Do you remember when we used to go skiing and we sneak into the bar to grab drink stirrers because each one was a little plastic ski in a different color? Then we would race them down a snow covered hill in the parking lot.
Well done. My first visit here reminds me of my first kiss about 65 years ago.
Our Flower Pot
Shawna: I'm so impressed that you and AH can just quote people like Millay. I wish I had that skill.
Lynne: I don't remember that, but I do remember when you slid down that hill head first and needed to get stitches.
Abe: Thanks for dropping by. What a lovely comment. I look forward to checking out your blog.
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