Vincent Millay (1892-1950)
Hair the shade of fire
Flaring like a spire
Over the sad space
Of her gypsy face:
Candle colored red
Burning down and dead.
Candle in a breeze
Of eternities,
Edna flickered faint,
Charring like some martyred saint
Scarlet at the stake,
Embered… for art’s sake.
Copyright © Steve Eng | Year Posted 2010
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