The Snow Storm by Edna St. Vincent Millay
No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
Abandoning its straight intent,
Or else expose tough ligament
And tender flesh to what before
Meant dampened feathers, nothing more.
Forceless upon our backs there fall
Infrequent flakes hexagonal,
Devised in many a curious style
To charm our safety for a while,
Where close to earth like mice we go
Under the horizontal snow.

One of my on-going goals is to read more poetry. I love the romance and the rhythm of poems. I somehow regret not having being taught to read poetry at school as I think it often evokes a raw emotion and 'soul' that other written forms don't. So in this light I'm introducing "A poem on Thursday" as a challenge to myself. To start it off, a poem by Edna St Vincent Millay. Edna St Vincent Millay was the first women to win a Pultizer Prize for poetry in 1923. Last night as I was coming home from my German class, a snow storm blew in - the wind blew fiercely and three inches of snow fell in a few short hours. Somehow this poem seemed apt.

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