Dorothy Parker

(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967 / Long Branch / New Jersey)

The Last Question - Poem by Dorothy Parker

New love, new love, where are you to lead me?
All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line.
How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me?
With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine.

New love, new love, shall I be forsaken?
One shall go a-wandering, and one of us must sigh.
Sweet it is to slumber, but how shall we awaken-
Whose will be the broken heart, when dawn comes by?


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Read poems about / on: love, heart



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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