Truth heard me.

Think not,
That I see you there;
You may, as you show
No story of the dead
Would leave with the devil,

The woods were golden
Through beeches;
Truth heard me learn again

(Blackout of Another Dark Lady by Edwin Arlington Robinson)

deathtruthblackout poetry

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Nobody Special

September 21, 2026 at 5:26 AM

This is incredibly haunting and beautifully written. The transition from the stark, almost defensive opening into that vivid, striking imagery of the golden beech woods is stunning. There is a deep sense of a hidden narrative here—like a secret kept between the speaker and the landscape.

Alison A Smith

September 21, 2026 at 5:50 AM

Stolen words from the Blackout of Another Dark Lady by Edwin Arlington Robinson👀