Living With Erin

Incense rides on the air
and the voice of Bruce Springsteen
jiggles my morning coffee.
James Dean’s in the silver frame
on the stereo,
the Rolling Stone shares a cushion 
with Edna Millay,
by the television, sneakers 
and tangerine socks
wait to be filled by the feet of 
their still-sleeping owner.
I open the door, let the paper in;
It’s a fine day.
A young person lives here now
and the house plants are greening—
me, too.

— Written about her youngest grand-daughter, circa 1986; published by permission from the poet’s estate

Encounter

One day we found
on a chaparral slope
a rattler wound
like a bucket rope

Tossed in a heap
on the sun-burned grass,
enough asleep 
that he let us pass

But enough alert
that his opening eye
predicted hurt
for the next one by.

— Written circa 1960s; published by permission from the poet’s estate

For Edna Millay

Nobody mourns when a star dies—
not for a thousand years,
till the light we loved in the far skies
dies. . . disappears. 

So may the death of a poet
go without elegy long
and none but the nearest her know it, 
and not till her printed song 

silts to dry ink in our fingers 

will we weep for the vanished spark—
take stock that the star of our singers 
is lighting a loftier dark.

— Written upon the death of Edna St. Vincent Millay in 1950; published by permission from the poet’s estate

Bio: LoVerne Brown

Editor’s Note

More on the Web: By, About, and Beyond

⚡ Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950): The Beyoncé of Formal Verse, review by Laura Passin in The Toast (16 June 2014)

⚡ God’s World, poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay at the Poetry Foundation website

⚡ Edna St. Vincent Millay, detailed bio and bibliography at Poetry Foundation