What Lips My Lips Have Kissed

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.

From The Harp-Weaver by Edna St. Vincent Millay

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For a non-lover of poetry, I find so much timeless and image intensive in Millay's poetry.  She painted pictures with her words. 

Can you imagine the rain full of ghosts tapping and sighing upon the glass?  That is a thought worth contemplating to make into a visual image.  I will work on that because I, like everyone, have rain, ghosts and windows. 

Comments

[C. Robin Janning]

Jan,

The image and the words are lovely and truly thought-provoking. What a wonderful meditation/gazing space you have created.

Robin