A collection of my favorite subjects: favorite art, my own art, favorite poetry, my writing, vintage le Belle Epoque images and profiles, my passions of preventing abuse, and other features from blogger, Maureen Kavaney Tillman
Monday, October 3, 2011
Village Mystery by Elinor Wylie
The woman in the pointed hood And cloak blue-gray like a pigeon's wing, Whose orchard climbs to the balsam-wood, Has done a cruel thing. To her back door-step came a ghost, A girl who had been ten years dead, She stood by the granite hitching-post And begged for a piece of bread. Now why should I, who walk alone, Who am ironical and proud, Turn, when a woman casts a stone At a beggar in a shroud? I saw the dead girl cringe and whine, And cower in the weeping air-- But, oh, she was no kin of mine, And so I did not care!