Posted on

Wild Swans

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

     I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.
     And what did I see I had not seen before?
     Only a question less or a question more;
     Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.
     Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,
     House without air, I leave you and lock your door.
     Wild swans, come over the town, come over
     The town again, trailing your legs and crying!