And let her loves, when she is dead,
Write this above her bones:
“No more she lives to give us bread
Who asked her only stones.”
From Enough Rope (Boni & Liveright, 1926) by Dorothy Parker. This poem is in the public domain.
I don’t want to see
what spilled out,
blue clay jug of dreams
toppled at the head of his pallet
found at dawn,
every drop of future
gone.
Copyright © 2022 by Naomi Shihab Nye. Used with permission of the author.