Explore "The Letter (Amy Lowell)" by Amy Lowell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Little cramped words scrawling all over the paper / Like draggled fly's legs, / What can you tell of the flaring moon / Through the oak leaves? / Or of my uncurtained window and the bare floor / Spattered with moonlight? / Your silly quirks and twists have nothing in them / Of blossoming hawthorns, / And this paper is dull, crisp, smooth, virgin of loveliness / Beneath my hand.
I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against / The want of you; / Of squeezing it into little inkdrops, / And posting it.
And I scald alone, here, under the fire / Of the great moon.