Kin to Sorrow

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Am I kin to Sorrow,
   That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door —
   Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed,
   Under Sorrow's hand?
Marigolds around the step
   And rosemary stand,
And then comes Sorrow —
   And what does Sorrow care
For the rosemary
   Or the marigolds there?
Am I kin to Sorrow?
   Are we kin?
That so oft upon my door —
   Oh, come in!

Monadnock Valley Press > Millay