{"id":10329,"date":"2019-04-30T17:10:39","date_gmt":"2019-04-30T17:10:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/?p=10329"},"modified":"2019-04-30T17:10:39","modified_gmt":"2019-04-30T17:10:39","slug":"saying-good-bye-to-april-with-edna-st-vincent-millay","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/2019\/04\/saying-good-bye-to-april-with-edna-st-vincent-millay\/","title":{"rendered":"Saying good-bye to April with Edna St. Vincent Millay"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"Hello<\/strong> to you and good-bye<\/strong> to April (and to Poetry Month). In Chicago April has been days of sun and spring temperatures as well as days of snow (and rain and rain that became snow).<\/p>\n

Embodying the contradictory emotions and weathers of April are these two poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay<\/strong>. They also show how poetry can be about divergent subjects. Spring poems often celebrate rebirth and joy but not these two poems.<\/p>\n

Hope you are celebrating Spring in your own way. I\u2019ll catch you in May.<\/p>\n

Peace, love, and solace<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Spring<\/strong><\/p>\n

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
\nBeauty is not enough.
\nYou can no longer quiet me with the redness
\nOf little leaves opening stickily.
\nI know what I know.
\nThe sun is hot on my neck as I observe
\nThe spikes of the crocus.
\nThe smell of the earth is good.
\nIt is apparent that there is no death.
\nBut what does that signify?
\nNot only under ground are the brains of men
\nEaten by maggots.
\nLife in itself
\nIs nothing,
\nAn empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
\nIt is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
\nApril
\nComes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Song of a Second April<\/strong><\/p>\n

April this year, not otherwise
\nThan April of a year ago,
\nIs full of whispers, full of sighs,
\nOf dazzling mud and dingy snow;
\nHepaticas that pleased you so
\nAre here again, and butterflies.<\/p>\n

There rings a hammering all day,
\nAnd shingles lie about the doors;
\nIn orchards near and far away
\nThe grey wood-pecker taps and bores;
\nThe men are merry at their chores,
\nAnd children earnest at their play.<\/p>\n

The larger streams run still and deep,
\nNoisy and swift the small brooks run
\nAmong the mullein stalks the sheep
\nGo up the hillside in the sun,
\nPensively,\u2014only you are gone,
\nYou that alone I cared to keep.<\/p>\n

Edna St. Vincent Millay, 1892-1950<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"
babbling and strewing flowers \u00a9 Ellen Wade Beals, 2019<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Hello to you and good-bye to April (and to Poetry Month). In Chicago April has been days of sun and spring temperatures as well as days of snow (and rain and rain that became snow). Embodying the contradictory emotions and weathers of April are these two poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay. They also show […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[971,3576,12,39,13,3578,7,16,968,3577,32],"class_list":{"0":"post-10329","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-uncategorized","7":"tag-april","8":"tag-edna-st-vincent-millay","9":"tag-ellen-wade-beals","10":"tag-photography","11":"tag-poetry","12":"tag-poetry-poetry-month","13":"tag-solace","14":"tag-solace-in-so-many-words","15":"tag-spring","16":"tag-spring-poems","17":"tag-weighed-words","18":"entry","19":"has-post-thumbnail"},"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10329","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10329"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10329\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10334,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10329\/revisions\/10334"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10329"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10329"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/solaceinabook.com\/site\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10329"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}