Wednesday, April 16, 2008

The Plaid Dress

Strong sun, that bleach
The curtains of my room, can you not render
Colourless this dress I wear?—
This violent plaid
Of purple angers and red shames; the yellow stripe
Of thin but valid treacheries; the flashy green of kind deeds done
Through indolence high judgments given here in haste;
The recurring checker of the serious breach of taste?

No more uncoloured than unmade,
I fear, can be this garment that I may not doff;
Confession does not strip it off,
To send me homeward eased and bare;

All through the formal, unoffending evening,
under the clean

Bright hair,
Lining the subtle gown. . . it is not seen,
But it is there.

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

1 comment:

Anna-Lyssa said...
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