At dawn from my damp garden
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me
That sprang to let me through;
The blossoms slept,—I sought a place
Where nothing lovely grew.
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me
That sprang to let me through;
The blossoms slept,—I sought a place
Where nothing lovely grew.
- Edna St. Vincent Millay
3 comments:
Love this. 🖤
Yeah, really love this poem. Felt perfect for this photo.
Excellent choice for the photo!
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