(22 February 1892 – 19 October 1950 / Rockland / Maine / United States)

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Kin To Sorrow

Am I kin to Sorrow,
That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door——
Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed,
Under Sorrow's hand?
Marigolds around the step
And rosemary stand,
And then comes Sorrow—
And what does Sorrow care
For the rosemary
Or the marigolds there?
Am I kin to Sorrow?
Are we kin?
That so oft upon my door—
Oh, come in!

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003


Read poems about / on: sorrow

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