Explore "Hearing your Words" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Hearing your words, and not a word among them
Tuned to my liking, on a salty day
When inland woods were pushed by winds that flung them
Hissing to leeward like a ton of spray, / I thought how off Matinicus the tide
Came pounding in, came running through the Gut, / While from the Rock the warning whistle cried, / And children whimpered, and the doors blew shut;
There in the autumn when the men go forth, / With slapping skirts the island women stand
In gardens stripped and scattered, peering north, / With dahlia tubers dripping from the hand:
The wind of their endurance, driving south, / Flattened your words against your speaking mouth.