Poem for Thursday {April 21, 2011 , 5:00 PM} LAMENT Listen children:
Edna St. Vincent Millay Your father is dead. From his old coats I'll make you little jackets; I'll make you little trousers From his old pants. There'll be in his pockets Things he used to put there, Keys and pennies Covered with tobacco; Dan shall have the pennies To save in his bank; Anne shall have the keys To make a pretty noise with. Life must go on, And the dead be forgotten; Life must go on, Though good men die; Anne, eat your breakfast; Dan, take your medicine; Life must go on; I forget just why. Labels: Edna St Vincent Millay, Lament, Poem ---------- Post a Comment ---------- |
|