Conrad Potter Aiken

(5 August 1889 – 17 August 1973 / Savannah, Georgia)

Improvisations: Light And Snow: 11 - Poem by Conrad Potter Aiken

As I walked through the lamplit gardens,
On the thin white crust of snow,
So intensely was I thinking of my misfortune,
So clearly were my eyes fixed
On the face of this grief which has come to me,
That I did not notice the beautiful pale colouring
Of lamplight on the snow;
Nor the interlaced long blue shadows of trees;
And yet these things were there,
And the white lamps, and the orange lamps, and the lamps of lilac were there,
As I have seen them so often before;
As they will be so often again
Long after my grief is forgotten.
And still, though I know this, and say this, it cannot console me.


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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