The Dream - Poem

The Dream

Love, on the off chance that I sob it won't make any difference, 

What's more, on the off chance that you giggle I might not give it a second thought; 

Stupid am I to consider it, 

In any case, it regards feel you there. 

Love, in my rest I longed for waking, 

White and terrible the moonlight came to 

Over the floor, and some place, some place 

There was a screen free it shrieked! 

Swung in the breeze and no breeze blowing- 

I was apprehensive and swung to you, 

Put out my hand to you for comfort- 

What's more, you were no more! Frosty as the dew, 

Under my hand the moonlight lay! 

Love, in the event that you snicker I might not give it a second thought, 

In any case, on the off chance that I sob it won't make any difference- 

Ok, it regards feel you there.

by Edna St. Vincent Millay