Poems About Edna St Vincent Millay by Top Critiquers

In old photographs I remember pain,
Of love and lust lost through those early years,
And though the wounds have healed cruel scars remain,
Like mementos of harsh and acid tears.
Now in silence I weep for that young man,
Reading the coded verses from his past,
With each rhyme I become more of a fan,
When he swore his emotions were so vast.
But looking back now I feel like a fool,
For having such an imagination,
At least I hurt softly and played it cool,
Thinking it was more of a fixation.
I still have memories to burn and singe, ...

( after Edna St Vincent Millay )

 
First Seedling    
 
Love is to the Spirit  
  as a seedling to earth—  
both take root and flourish;    
  or, wither on rocky soil  
 
 
Second Seedling  
 
You can hide your candle under a bushel;  
  but, risk burning your entire abode. . .  
 
~

We say circumstance, as if it where designed
Chaos in the wind. Is but seeds of revolution
History in books are nothing, statues remind  
Is our guilt ridden cleansing, a right solution  
Our love of humankind diminished, till recent times  
Unjust blood spilled, dubbed hate crimes  
We create the fuel, in how its taught  
Innocence never dies, its a slow torturous rot 
In ignoring it, the cancer grew not undetected  
Ostriches head buried in sand, not affected  
Protesting parades, with rage and violence  
His death viewed,...

I swear, this summer’s sun
still scorches close to night
as I must have been the wettest there
returning home from my desert hike!

Got to take photos of desert fare;
saw a monster, orange and black
looked no worse for wear
nor thirsty for a damp redact!

Getting difficult now for me to see
few streetlamps light my way
relying on starlight skies for me
‘fore denizens emerge to play.