Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sonnet 104

Fatal Interview
Clearly my ruined garden as it stood Before the frost came on it I recall — Stiff marigolds, and what a trunk of wood The zinnia had, that was the first to fall; These pale and oozy stalks, these hanging leaves Nerveless and darkened, dripping in the sun, Cannot gainsay me, though the spirit grieves And wrings its hands at what the frost has done. If in a widening silence you should guess I read the moment with recording eyes, Taking your love and all your loveliness Into a listening body hushed of sighs . . . Though summer's rife and the warm rose in season, Rebuke me not: I have a winter reason.