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It was during college that I walked past the quite narrow Edna St. Vincent Millay house in New York City. A small plaque indicating such stopped me in my tracks. Edna? He was a she? People always said her name so quickly, I only caught St. Vincent and so assumed… What a fool I was. How embarrassing. How typical of the girl who thought Neil Diamond sang a song called Reverend Blue Jeans. I was forever misunderstanding things until I read them. Perhaps that is why I love reading so much. But leave those thoughts of my misguided youth aside, I adore Ms. Edna St. Vincent Millay who was born in my adopted state of Maine and here is why — It is because she wrote of things that would have delighted Oscar Wilde.

And if I loved you Wednesday,
    Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday–
    So much is true.

And why you come complaining
    Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,–yes–but what
    Is that to me? 

from A Few Figs from Thistles (1922). Online Source