I drank at every vine

Bit of an annoying, scattered and unfocused sort of a day..did find a great poem though, and this first, dreamy sign of Spring in the garden..

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Feast

I drank at every vine.
The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
So wonderful as thirst.

I gnawed at every root.
I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
So wonderful as want.

Feed the grape and bean
To the vintner and monger:
I will lie down lean
With my thirst and my hunger.

Edna St. Vincent Millay

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(Thanks to hungry sofia at her marvellous blogย for leading me to the poem!)

4 thoughts on “I drank at every vine

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