Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Memory of Cape Cod

The wind in the ash-tree sounds like surf on the
   shore at Truro.
I will shut my eyes . . . hush, be still with your
   silly bleating, sheep on Shillingstone Hill . . .

They said: Come along! They said: Leave your
pebbles on the sand and come along, it’s long after
   sunset!
The mosquitoes will be thick in the pine-woods along
   by Long Nook, the wind’s died down!
They said: Leave your pebbles on the sand, and your
   shells, too, and come along, we’ll find you another
   beach like the beach at Truro.

Let me listen to wind in the ash ... it sounds like
   surf on the shore.

1. So She Came Back
2. The Last White Sawdust
3. I See So Clearly Now My Similar Years
4. Loving You Less Than Life
5. The White Bark Writhed

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