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Read more poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay: Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems at Poetry X.

If I grow bitterly,
Like a gnarled and stunted tree,
Bearing harshly of my youth
Puckered fruit that sears the mouth;
If I make of my drawn boughs
An Inshospitable House,
Out of which I nevery pry
Towards the water and the sky,
Under which I stand and hide
And hear the day go by outside;
It is that a wind to strong
Bent my back when I was young,
It is that I fear the rain
Lest it blister me again.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 3 Dec 2008 7:13 PM | Viewed: 2307 times

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