She had Forgotten by Edna St. Vincent Millay

She had forgotten how the August night

Was level as a lake beneath the moon, / In which she swam a little, losing sight

Of shore; and how the boy, who was at noon

Simple enough, not different from the rest, / Wore now a pleasant mystery as he went, / Which seemed to her an honest enough test

Whether she loved him, and she was content.

So loud, so loud the million crickets' choir . . .

So sweet the night, so long-drawn-out and late . . .

And if the man were not her spirit's mate, / Why was her body sluggish with desire?

Stark on the open field the moonlight fell, / But the oak tree's shadow was deep and black and secret as a well.