Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Spring - Edna St Vincent Millay


To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death
But what does that signify?
Not only under the ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Happy Spring Murph,

Although I love this time of year, this poem was kind of a downer...

I hope you are enjoying Opening Day games! It was strange to have the first Fenway game on a Sunday night and on Easter. I wonder where the teams will end up this Fall...the Red Sox/Yankees always put on a great show!

Enjoy the season!