menu Language Is A Virus

We Sat Smoking at a Table... by May Sarton

We sat smoking at a table by the river
And then suddenly in the silence someone said,
"Look at the sunlight on the apple tree there shiver:
I shall remember that long after I am dead."
Together we all turned to see how the tree shook,
How it sparkled and seemed spun out of green and gold,
And we thought that hour, that light and our long mutual look
Might warm us each someday when we were cold.

And I thought of your face that sweeps over me like light,
Like the sun on the apple making a lovely show,
So one seeing it marveled the other night,
Turned to me saying, "What is it in your heart? You glow." —
Not guessing that on my face he saw the singular
Reflection of your grace like fire on snow —
And loved you there.