It may be when the sunlight strikes the sill A certain way. Your hand once rested there, And so, remembering that, my heart stands still, As one who has been running stops for air. Or in a crowd some friend may say your name, Or just a name that's similar to yours, And all my pulses leap as leaps a flame When someone adds a twig. These are your lures. The snares your hand and voice have set for me Are many as the things I hear and see. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHERE? by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by ELIZABETH I TO THE WHITE FIENDS by CLAUDE MCKAY ON THE SITE OF A MULBERRY-TREE PLANTED BY SHAKESPEARE ... by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A RHYMED REVIEW; 'LAUGHING MUSE' (BY ARTHUR GUITERMAN) by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |