Evening Poetry, September 7

Opal

by Amy Lowell

You are ice and fire,

The touch of you burns my hands like snow.

You are cold and flame.

You are the crimson of amaryllis,

The silver of moon-touched magnolias.

When I am with you,

My heart is a frozen pond

Gleaming with agitated torches.

This poem can be found in The Complete Poetical Works of Amy Lowell.

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