What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

  • "What my lips have kissed, and where, and why..." by Edna St. Vincent Millay.

  • Source: Vanity Fair (November, 1920)

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"I've had the opportunity to meet students and teachers across Montana who share a love for the arts. Poetry Out Loud fosters a connection between all who participate. I've made connections with peers and mentors that will last for years to come."
Savannah Smith
2016 MT POL Champion