The Blue Scarf
Read 'The Blue Scarf' by 'Amy Lowell' and provide your summary and literary analysis in the comments section below.
Pale, with the blue of high zeniths, shimmered
over with silver, brocaded
In smooth, running patterns, a soft stuff, with dark knotted fringes,
it lies there,
Warm from a woman's soft shoulders, and my fingers close on it,
caressing.
Where is she, the woman who wore it? The scent of her
lingers and drugs me!
A languor, fire-shotted, runs through me, and I crush the scarf
down
on my face,
And gulp in the warmth and the blueness, and my eyes swim
in cool-tinted heavens.
Around me are columns of marble, and a diapered, sun-flickered pavement.
Rose-leaves blow and patter against it. Below the stone
steps a lute tinkles.
A jar of green jade throws its shadow half over the floor. A
big-bellied
Frog hops through the sunlight and plops in the gold-bubbled water
of a basin,
Sunk in the black and white marble. The west wind has
lifted a scarf
On the seat close beside me, the blue of it is a violent outrage
of colour.
She draws it more closely about her, and it ripples beneath
her slight stirring.
Her kisses are sharp buds of fire; and I burn back against her,
a jewel
Hard and white; a stalked, flaming flower; till I break to
a handful of cinders,
And open my eyes to the scarf, shining blue in the afternoon sunshine.
How loud clocks can tick when a room is empty,
and one is alone!
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