In a dress all softness and half-tones,
Indolent and half-reclined,
She lay upon a couch,
With the firelight reflected in her jewels.
But her eyes had no reflection,
They swam in a grey smoke,
The smoke of smouldering ashes,
The smoke of her cindered heart.
Drawing-room
Amy Lowell
(2)
Poem topics: heart, reflection, dress, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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