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I remember this one in particular, remember thinking how beautiful it was, how it flowed. I didn't get it at the time, never having dared even talk to a boy, not really knowing or even comprehending how age or love or regret affect a person, maybe I still don't, but I still think its one of the most evocative poems I've ever read.
Edna St. Vincent Millay - Sonnet XLIII
"What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more."
And on a lighter note, here are those puddings... There's a homemaker in me yet...
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